Lost in the Fog
by Sanqhian
Summary: Secrets don't remain in the shadows forever. /slash/
1. She Couldn't Change Me

Note: This is not my best work but it's all I have right now...

**Lost in the Fog

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**Chapter One: She Couldn't Change Me**

"Have you ever had a girlfriend?" Martin asked before popping a French fry into his mouth.

"Once," answered Danny, a sly smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Her name was Sheri and she had hair the color of strawberries. We used to spend a lot of time together."

"So what happened to her?" he asked.

Danny shrugged. "It wasn't the kind of relationship that I wanted. Actually, I take that back, it was but at the same time it wasn't. The commitment was nice but the person was all wrong."

Martin couldn't help but smile. He loved when Danny would point at the faults of his past relationships because it always made him feel more important, more loved by the other man. For the past year he'd been seeing Danny but no one knew about it. He kept his relationship with the lawyer a closely guarded secret. Not because he thought that his friends wouldn't understand but because he knew for a fact that his father wouldn't. For the longest time he'd known that women weren't exactly his cup of tea. However every one of the relationships that he had with men fell apart. He was beginning to think that he'd spend the rest of his life going from one one-night stand to another. That's when he met Danny Taylor.

It had been after a particularly bad case. For a week they had been trying to find a missing child, presumed kidnapped by her father. Everything was beginning to look bad when they were able to locate the father registered in a hotel out on Staten Island. They figured that they would find the father and his daughter there. Instead they found a bloody room and a body. Someone had shot the father in the head but only after beating him. There was no sign of the little girl. Despite all the leads they got from that one room and the people in and around the hotel they'd been unable to find the missing child. After a week of getting nowhere he couldn't take it anymore. The case file never left Jack's office, and even after a year it remained there, a constant reminder of the case they could not solve. The little girl haunted his dreams. He saw her face all the time and that was why he found himself at that bar all those months ago. Little did he know that everything in his life was about to change.

He'd taken a seat next to a man in a suit who looked to be having as bad a time as him. When he offered to buy the guy a drink he was politely turned down, the guy saying that he was only drinking club soda and nothing else. That prompted Martin to mention how weird it was for someone to go to a bar and not drink. That had been his first meeting with Danny, a former alcoholic. The lawyer explained that sometimes he liked to stop by a bar and sit for a while to remind himself why he'd given up drinking a few years back. He took the opportunity to look back on his life and see what he could have been instead of what he was now; a lawyer that helped those that couldn't afford the prices of most other lawyers.

After that one night they ran into each other almost constantly at the same bar. It was only after a month that Martin realized he kept going to the bar for the simple chance of running into the lawyer. Amazingly that same day he'd run into Danny on the street buying a hot dog from a vendor. They'd gotten into talking about their work, walking the busy New York sidewalks, quickly losing track of time. Neither one of them was sure whether or not that was the day they truly realized that there was something more between them. They took things slow, having lunch here, catching a movie there. Before long they were spending all their free time together and Martin would often find himself helping Danny with his work, offering suggestions to the cases he worked. He had fallen head over heals in love with Danny and knew that for the first time in his life the feeling was mutual.

"I think the last time I was with a girl was back in middle school," Martin mused, trying to recall the name of his last girlfriend. He'd had a slight crush on the principle's daughter but his father had frowned about the idea. Something about her not being good enough for his son. "My relationships never worked out until I met you, you know that?"

Danny smiled, a twinkle in his eye. "What can I say? I love you, Fitzy. There's something about you…something I can't quite put my finger on but even one day away from you makes my heart ache. I have to hear your voice, feel you next to me, inhale the scent that is uniquely you."

Martin could feel himself blushing but he attempted to steer the conversation back to their past relationships. "Did your family care for Sheri or…?"

"My brother thought that maybe I'd make him an uncle finally. What I didn't want to tell him was that even if Sheri and I did have a kid he wouldn't be meeting it because he'd be in jail," answered Danny with a smirk. "I liked Sheri, a lot…but she just…." He shrugged. "She wasn't my type and try as she might she couldn't change me. I love guys."

"And how does your brother feel about that?"

"I haven't exactly told him," Danny admitted. "How about you? Do your friends and family approve of us?"

"They don't know about us," he said. He looked at Danny, studying his reaction to the news. "My father would disown me and I could care less what my friends say." He reached across the table and took Danny's hand in his own. "The only person that I care about is you."

Danny looked as though he was going to say something in reply but his words were cut-off by the trill of a cell phone. A dark cloud passed over his eyes as he fished the phone out of his jacket pocket. He checked the caller ID and swore under his breath. "I have to take this, Fitzy."

No sooner did he say that than Martin's phone began to ring. He smiled. "See you at the apartment tonight?"

Danny leaned across the table and kissed him on the lips, a passing promise of what would come later that night. "I wouldn't miss it for the world. Nothing could keep me away from you."


	2. My Father's Son

**Note:** See profile for important message.

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**Chapter Two: My Father's Son**

Martin and Danny parted ways, the lawyer going in one direction and the agent in the other. He wished that they could spend more time together but for now he would have to deal with secret lunches and after hour visits. One of these days he was going to get up the courage to tell his father how he really felt. He'd deal with the aftermath, as bad as it would be. There would be yelling and screaming, maybe his father would even disown him. What he feared most was that his father would find a way to transfer him out of the state. What would he do then? He wouldn't really feel right asking Danny to accompany him, to leave behind his small private practice just so they could stay together. It wasn't fair. He waited until Danny disappeared into the crowd before he headed toward the Government Issue car parked along the curb further up the block. A few minutes later he was pulling out into the busy New York traffic.

His cell phone began to chirp again when he stopped at a red light. Checking the number he saw that it was Sam calling. He answered and listened in silence as she went on a tangent about the case she'd been working. She complained about the new girl, Elena, and how hard it was to understand her half the time. Martin could only smile. He'd yet to have the privilege of working with the new recruit but he already knew that he didn't look forward to it. He liked when it had just been the four of them. Why did they need a new person on the team anyway? The light turned green and he eased into the intersection as Sam changed her tune, asking him what he was going to be doing this coming weekend. He tried to think of a quick exit from the conversation. He knew what she was seeking and he didn't want any part of it. Over the last few weeks he'd noticed a change in her, one that started out subtly and grew with each passing day. There was something on her mind. He was good friends with Sam, nothing more, but he wasn't sure if she was after something more or just needed to talk. Maybe he'd pull her aside at the end of work, see what was on her mind.

Their conversation finally ended as he pulled into the parking lot at work, sticking the vehicle in one of the reserved spots. He wove his way through the bustling lobby and stepped onto the elevator, hitting the button for the floor the Missing Persons Unit was on. There were far less people walking around as he stepped off the elevator. As he neared his desk he could hear Jack talking with Vivian. They were discussing the new girl. Martin opted for staying out of the conversation as he took a seat at his desk. There were files that needed to be gone through as he finished wrapping up his latest case; a dentist who had gone missing a week earlier. They found the guy after he'd failed faking his own death to escape the debt he'd created. This was Martin least favorite part of the job; the paperwork. He settled in for a long afternoon of typing, his mind never far from thoughts about Danny.

The report took him longer than it should have since he couldn't keep his mind focused on the task. Close to the end of shift Elena and Sam returned, both of them looking tired and nearly dead to the world. Their case had finally come to an end. The person they'd been searching for hadn't even been missing. They'd just gone away for a vacation without telling anyone where they were going, or that they were even leaving. All that time spent looking for someone who wasn't really missing…At least all the cases were finished, off the table. Martin knew from experience that there would be more work to do tomorrow; someone else would go missing under unusual circumstances and they'd be put on the case. He just prayed that the call didn't come in the middle of the night, taking him away from his lover earlier than planned.

The sun sank below the horizon as they all began to shuffle through the last motions of the day; clearing up paperwork, locking things in drawers, gathering their stuff so that they could head home. Martin was closing the bottom drawer on his desk when he caught Sam out of the corner of his eye. She looked to be sleeping, her chin resting in her hand, her arm propped up on her desk. He remembered that he was supposed to talk with her but now he wasn't sure if it would be a good idea or not. Elena and Vivian walked out of the office chattering about their experiences as mothers and when he looked toward Jack's office he could see his boss talking to someone on the phone. He didn't look happy about it, whatever the conversation was about. Alone with Sam he decided that it would hurt to see if she wanted to talk.

He cleared his throat loudly, the noise jolting her out of her nap. She looked around at the empty office and then her eyes settled on him. He could see the blush creeping across her cheeks. "Work that boring today?"

She shrugged absentmindedly as she started gathering her stuff. "Just been one of those weeks, that's all. I haven't been getting much sleep at home…"

"Any particular reason why?"

"No, not really," she muttered. "Just…it happens, you know? This job, after awhile all those images from past cases…they build up and then you start having dreams about people you haven't thought of in years."

"Tell me about it," he said. "I keep thinking about that little girl from a year ago."

Sam looked at him. "Susie Michaels? Yeah, I've been thinking about her too. What do you think happened to her?"

"Hard to say," he shrugged. "Any number of things could have happened to that poor girl. She could be happy and well, living in another country for all we know."

"Or she could be dead."

"Or she could be dead," he echoed, agreeing with her. There was something more to her mood, he knew it but whatever it was she didn't seem interested in talking about it. "How about we go out this weekend? I have someone I want you to meet."

She looked at him, a coy twinkle in her eye. "Why, Martin, have you finally found someone to love? What's her name? Where does she work?"

He smiled; shrugging off the fact she instantly thought he was dating a woman. He'd given her no other reason to assume otherwise. "Why don't we just make plans to hang out this weekend? Do some talking? I think this person might be able to help you…what do you say?"

"Sure, what the hell, why not?" she said, pushing her chair away from her desk and standing. "It's a date, Martin."

He walked her out, making sure that she got to her car and that she didn't seem in the least bit drowsy before he got behind the wheel of his own vehicle. As he started the engine he tried to figure out why he'd set up a date with her this weekend, one involving the presence of Danny. What would she think when she learned the truth about him, that he liked to date men and not women? Part of him was deeply afraid of her reaction while another part was excited about the idea of having someone know. If she knew then he would have someone to talk to, someone to bounce ideas off of. Someone to help him understand the way he was feeling.

The drive home took far too long. He was afraid that he would get there and Danny would be upset with him but when he got up to his apartment he found the door locked. He frowned. A month ago he'd given Danny a key to his apartment. Maybe his lover had just gotten tied up with a case and would be running a little late. He'd start dinner and get their romantic night together ready so that they'd be good to go when Danny did arrive. Putting his key in the lock he turned it and pushed open the apartment door. A slip of paper that had been pushed under the door rested on the carpet inside, waiting for him. Thinking that maybe it was a message from Danny he bent down to pick it up. He didn't read it until he closed the door behind him, settling his stuff on the couch. Opening the folded paper he read the words that sent his world into a downward spiral…

_Martin Fitzgerald, son of FBI director Victor Fitzgerald, you're going to play a little game. If you fail to abide by the rules then a lawyer by the name of Danny Taylor will wind up in an early grave._

Martin felt a chill run down his spine, wondering who would play such a sick joke. He was close to crumbling the paper and throwing it away when something told him to hang onto it. Refolding the note he reached for his cell phone, only to have it ring as he fingers brushed against it. The sudden sound made him jump in the otherwise quiet apartment. He chuckled at his own jumpiness, picking up his phone. All sense of humor drained from him as he saw that it was Danny calling. For some reason he was suddenly filled with a feeling of dread.


	3. The Fine Line

**Chapter Three: The Fine Line**

Martin was even more uneasy after hanging up the call. There had been dead silence on the other end for the first two minutes. Then he could hear muffled sounds; shoes on concrete flooring, what sounded like someone being hit, the sound of a choked sob. After five minutes the line went dead. He wasn't sure if it had all been planned for him or if maybe Danny had tried calling him and they found the phone. All he knew was that the note was no joke; the man he'd been falling in love with had been taken. Instead of enjoying a relaxing night as he had been planning to he grabbed his keys and headed back into the city, the sun already sinking toward the horizon. Within the maze of tall buildings it was already night, the shadows creating pools of darkness. He drove as fast as he could without breaking the law but it still took him a good half hour to get to the building where Danny kept his office. There was no doorman to contend with so he stepped into the lobby, ignoring the directory on one wall. He knew where Danny's office was; he had been there more than once.

Forgoing the elevator, afraid that he would fall apart if he didn't keep moving, he headed up the stairs. On the third floor he practically ran down the hallway toward the office door. Much to his surprise he found the door closed, black letters spelling out Daniel Taylor, Attorney at Law on the glass panel. He tried the handle and found it unlocked, just as he expected it would be. Steeling himself for the worst, he stepped into the darkened office, flicking on the overhead light.

There were papers scattered everywhere. Someone had tipped over a filing cabinet, its contents adding to the mess. One of the chairs reserved for clients lay on its side; the seat cushion appeared to have a tear in it. Martin walked gingerly through the mess, making sure to keep an eye on the floor so that he wouldn't step on anything. But at the same time he kept his eyes trained on the objects that he passed, hoping against hope that he would find some sort of clue left behind by the people that had done this deed. When he got to the light-colored wooden desk that was situated near the back of the room he found a pen lying atop it. Martin recalled his visits to the office and how Danny always put the pen back in the mug that he used for a pen holder. The desk chair was broken, one of the wheels a few inches away.

Martin moved carefully around the desk, peering out the big windows at the city as it began to light up for the night hours. Not paying attention to what he was doing he heard the distinct sound of glass breaking as he stepped down. He gingerly picked up his foot and looked down. There was a pair of glasses on the floor at his feet. He knew that they belonged to Danny, even though the lawyer didn't wear them that often. When he bent down to get a better look at them something red caught his attention. He looked at it. On the edge of the desk there appeared to be a smear of blood. His heart skipped a beat as he looked at it. There was no doubt in his mind that it belonged to Danny.

His first instinct was to call Jack and inform him of the situation, start an official investigation into the kidnapping of Danny but then he remembered the note. Something about him having to play a game. Not to mention the fact that he'd gotten the call as soon as he returned home. That meant that they could very well be watching him. He couldn't make the call. His heart sank. What was he supposed to do? Wait until they called again or risk getting Danny killed by breaking the rules and involving his coworkers? Normally the choice was an easy one to make but this was Danny; the man he'd given his heart to. He'd do anything and everything he could to get him back. He decided that it would be best to go along with the kidnappers for as long as possible. When things got too hard he would call in Jack and explain the situation.

Now he had to figure out what his next move would be.

The answer came in the form of an object through the window, the sound of shattering glass filling the small office. Instinctively Martin fell to the floor on his hands and knees, broken bits of glass biting into the palms of his hands. He remained in the position for a few minutes to make sure that nothing else was going to happen. Meanwhile his mind was racing. He was on the third floor, how could someone have thrown an object through the window? Unless they were in the building across the alley. Quickly he got to his feet and turned to look out the window. But there were few lights on in the building across the way, an office building much like the one that he stood in. Knowing that he would never get back down to the ground floor and over to the other high rise in time to catch anyone he resigned himself to letting it go. Instead he began the search for the projectile.

It had landed under the desk. He retrieved the baseball-sized object and found it to be a rock. He thought it would have been clichéd to throw a brick. There was still a message, a slip of white paper held on by a watch the he knew belonged to Danny. Once again he felt his heart skip a beat. He ran his thumb over the glass watch face and pictured the golden band against Danny's honey-hued skin. He could almost smell Danny's shampoo, his aftershave, the slightest hint of his cologne. It just about brought tears to his eyes. Blinking them back he took the watch from the rock, slipping it onto his wrist, and flipped open the note.

There was another smear of blood marring the white paper. Scrawled in cursive were the words, _If you want to play the game then go back to your apartment. There will be a message waiting for you there._


	4. Cold One Coming On

**Chapter Four: Cold One Coming On**

He stood outside the building that housed his apartment, gazing up at the floor where he lived, afraid to head inside to see what message was left behind. In his job he'd learned about all kinds of people, how cruel they can be to one another, to what lengths someone will go to get money or drugs. Hell, he'd once stolen a bottle of pain medication from the house of a person they were trying to help. As the sky darkened overhead he thought about the man that had swept him away. He always thought that life made sense but then he met Danny and realized just how much was missing from his life, how deep inside his heart had been shut away. And now…he wondered if he would ever get the chance to look into Danny's brown eyes once again, to feel the gentle caress…

A crack of thunder made him jump as lightning streaked across the sky. A mere second later the heavens opened up, rain pouring down upon him like he stood under a waterfall. He was drenched before he could say his full name and he found it to be rather fitting to his mood. Dripping, looking somewhat like a lost soul- and wasn't that exactly what he was?- he finally got up the courage to walk into the lobby of his building. He left droplets of water on the floor in his wake, his mind consumed by a trillion thoughts, none of which he could pin down. It was his job to find missing people, those kidnapped by the people they loved, people they thought they could trust, people they had wronged, and yet, he found that nothing about what he was doing made sense. Why had he refrained from calling Jack, a man that had been doing this job far longer than him, someone that would understand? Why was he so apprehensive about finding the next clue? That was the easier of the two questions to answer; he was afraid of just _what_ exactly the next clue would be. What if it turned out to be a body part? He wouldn't be able to handle that…not that anyone ever could.

He trudged up the stairs, once again ignoring the convenience of the elevator. Every step, his feet feeling heavy, was like a burning agony as he drew closer to his apartment. When he reached the landing he paused, a new thought coming to the forefront of his mind. How would the message be left for him? He hoped that it was left on his door, taped to the wood or maybe slid through the crack between the door and the floor. But there was a chance that it could very well be _inside_ his apartment. That simple realization sent a shiver running down his spine as he walked down the carpeted hall. If someone, somehow managed to get into his apartment he wouldn't be able to sleep, not that he figured he'd be doing a lot of that to begin with, but the thought that someone could get into his apartment…

There was nothing on the door of his apartment aside from the gold number that was always there. It only furthered his feelings of unease. Reaching into his pocket he withdrew his keys, slipping one into the lock and turning it. He let the door open before him, allowing him to see into his apartment without putting himself in danger. Everything seemed to be in its place from where he stood in the hallway. The only thing that didn't belong was the stark white envelope on the floor with his name written on the outside. He bent down to pick it up. Before bothering to read what was inside he closed the door and locked it behind him, the wooden barrier giving him a feeling of safety. He dropped his keys on the floor and opened the envelope. It took him another minute before he was strong enough pull out the contents inside.

A piece of fabric, cut away from a shirt. He felt the familiar texture between his fingers, knew the pattern by heart. Raising the fabric toward his face he could smell the faint aroma of Danny's cologne. Closing his eyes his mind was transported to another time and place, a time when he was with Danny, sharing a passionate moment. It nearly brought tears to his eyes. Knowing that there had to be more he slipped the fabric into his pocket and fished around inside the envelope. There was another note inside, this one informing him that someone was going to go missing in the next few hours. It was his job to keep the investigation stalled as long as possible. Further instructions would be delivered when needed.

He felt a heaviness wash over him. Whoever took Danny wanted him to stop doing his job without really stopping. How was he going to keep the others from finding leads and tracking down whoever it was that would go missing? If Jack found out then he stood to lose everything. His father wouldn't even be able to help him. He closed his eyes, wondering what he'd done to get caught up in such a horrible scenario.

The answer was simple.

He'd fallen in love.

--

Before he left for work the next morning he grabbed something a little extra, shoving it into his pocket. It was a bottle of pain medication that he'd kept around shortly after he started going to meetings to break his habit. The others had been so supportive of him, even Danny had shown him support when he talked about how hard it was to give up his addiction to the little pills. And that was months after the fact. Nobody knew that he kept the bottle around because he kept it hidden away. The reason he kept it was for the same reason some former alcoholics kept bottles of liquor; to remind him of what he'd nearly lost. Now the bottle served a different purpose. He wanted the magic of the pills to mellow him out, to help him act like his usual self so that the others wouldn't realize that something was in fact wrong.

The bottle secure in the inside pocket of his jacket he set out for work.

At the office everything seemed to be going smoothly, normal like it was any other day of the year and he wasn't in the middle of some bizarre game. Sam was in talking to Jack, perched on the edge of his desk. Vivian was sitting at the conference table with Elena, chatting about kids and schools and other motherly things. He thought about heading to his desk to finish up the work he'd left from yesterday but found that he didn't exactly have the courage. Instead he took a detour to the break room. Once he was alone he popped one of the tiny pills, downing it with a swallow of coffee. Only after the fact did he realize just how weak he'd become. For months now he thought he was healed, over this damned addiction. But one little glitch in his life and he was once again popping them like candy. What would Danny think of him? He would be mad, but that didn't matter if he couldn't get Danny back to him.

Taking his steaming mug of coffee back to his desk he found that there was a flurry of activity. Curious about what was going on, but for some reason afraid to let the others know that he was there, he headed for his desk, settling the mug atop the wood and falling into his chair. He hadn't even been there for a second when Sam came to stand beside him.

"Looks like we have a busy day ahead of us," she said. She held something in her hand.

"What makes you say that?"

"We have a missing person, a lawyer," she said.

At the mention of the person's occupation his heart began to beat faster. He recalled in cold clarity the message from the night before.

"Oh?" he managed to get out, his voice sound calm and cool. Inside he was quickly losing control.

"Yep," she told him, holding the picture up for him.

Just as he'd feared it was Danny.

They were looking for his lover.

And he had to keep them from finding him.


	5. While the World Goes Down the Drain

**Note:** Important message in profile.

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**Chapter Five: While the World Goes Down the Drain**

Martin bounced on the balls of his feet rather impatiently while he waited for Jack to finish interviewing a neighbor. He counted himself lucky that the guy they were talking to had never seen him. They either met at Danny's officer or Martin's apartment. Danny used the excuse that his place wasn't quite as friendly as Martin's and now he'd seen for himself that it wasn't that great of a place. The building was kind of in shambles but he knew that Danny couldn't really afford to live anywhere else. He didn't take on cases of rich people. The people he helped were usually at the end of the line, he became their last attempt to stay afloat. That was one of the many things that he loved about the lawyer; that he gave up the glory of working high profile cases and the money that went with them. It showed him that there were still nice people in this world, that someone still cared even when others didn't.

As he checked his watch for the twentieth time he heard Jack thank the guy and say goodbye. And they were on the move again, heading back out onto the street. He knew that within the bowels of the building a team of crime scene investigators were going through Danny's apartment to find any evidence that might give them a lead on what happened to the lawyer. Climbing into the passenger side of the car he tried to think of who might have called in Danny as a missing person. Could it have been the same people that had taken him and then turned around to tell Martin that he had to stall the investigation? Or had it been one of Danny's clients come to see him and found the office to be a mess?

"Do we know who called in the missing person report?" he said aloud before he realized it.

Jack looked over at him, turning the key in the ignition, the engine purring. "An elderly woman. She said that Mr. Taylor runs an office in the building where she has her maid service. I figured we'd head over to that building now, maybe get a look at the office. It could have a clue as to where this guy has gone or what happened to him."

_I know what happened to him, _Martin thought. He kept his mouth shut as Jack pulled into traffic. How was he supposed to stall the investigation without making himself look suspicious? And when Jack figured out how was he going to explain himself? He wanted to request that he be removed from the case, making up some lie that would leave him on desk duty for a while but he knew that that was not an option. Sitting back and doing nothing would not being stalling the investigation. And while he chewed over how he could do that he was also worried about going to the office building. People who worked there had seen him. Would they say anything or keep quiet on the matter? He could feel the twisting knot in his gut as the vehicle sped toward the ever so familiar building. Not even two hours into the search and everything was already going to fall apart. He closed his eyes and let out a sigh. Maybe there was a way that he could tell Jack without compromising anything.

But he didn't say anything. He just kept his mouth shut. He was in way over his head this time and couldn't figure out how to get out.

They pulled up outside the office complex and Jack got out. Martin remained in the car, afraid to get out for fear of being made. He had to come up with something, anything to get them away from this building. So while Jack walked around the vehicle to the sidewalk he pulled out his cell phone to fake a call. Flipping it open he pretended as though he was talking to someone while in actuality he was trying in vain to figure out what the hell he could do to get them away from here.

And then it hit him.

He rolled down his window. "Jack, I just got a call from the office. I think you might be interested to know that our missing guy has a brother that's had one too many run-ins with the law."

Jack's eyebrows rose ever so slightly in surprise. "Is that so?" He looked back at the building. "Call Sam and tell her to get over here. I want her to check out the office, interview some of the people in the area to see if they remember anything. You and I are going to have a talk with that brother. Maybe he knows what happened."

Martin let out a sigh of relief as he rolled the window back up. Though he knew it was a bad idea to drag Danny's brother into the investigation, and that Danny would get mad if he found out, it was the only thing that had come to him. He didn't know Danny's brother, they had never met but he did know from the stories told by the man he loved that he wasn't an up and up kind of guy; that he had run-ins with the law. He just hoped that this proved to be worth it.

--

When they arrived at Rafi's apartment Martin was quickly ashamed of himself. When he saw the way that Rafi's girl looked at him when she opened the door to find two Federal agents standing there, his heart sank. This move may have gotten them away from the office but now he'd made things bad for Danny's brother. And how was he going to explain that to Danny? That was, if he ever saw the lawyer again. He chastised himself, told himself that he needed to stop thinking like that. Jack grilled Rafi for nearly two hours in hopes of getting something, anything to help them locate his missing brother. But try as he might Jack was unable to get any information out of Rafi. The ex-con hadn't even been aware that his brother was missing. While Jack had been talking to Rafi, Martin looked around at the stuff in the slight dingy apartment; the pictures on the wall, the schoolbooks on the small table, a toy here and there. These people were all the family that Danny had and all Martin had done was bring them trouble they clearly didn't need. But he was happy to learn that Rafi didn't know anything.

They left to return to the office. Once there they learned that the girls had about as much luck as they'd had; coming up short. Though Sam didn't mention that one of the women mentioned something about seeing a young man with brown hair. She was hopeful that they might get a sketch of this person. That just gave Martin one more thing to worry about. He couldn't even recall having seen anyone last night, how had they seen him?

By the time he left work he was torn. One part of him was happy that the investigation hadn't gotten anywhere for the day. The other part of him was deeply depressed over the same matter. He wanted his friends to find Danny at the same time that he didn't want them to find Danny. It was tearing him up, stressing him out. That's why, before taking a shower he popped another one of the pills, downing it with a swig of water. Stepping under the stream of hot water he felt his muscles relax while his brain kept running on full throttle. Try as he might he couldn't chase away thoughts of Danny. Where was he? Who had him? What were they doing to him? Why had they taken him in the first place? He had all these questions and no answers. As he watched the water swirl down the drain he realized that he didn't even know what was his next move.


	6. Hell Bent on Saving Me

Note: I apologize for the delay. New schedule...

* * *

**Chapter Six: Hell Bent on Saving Me**

The wind howled through a broken window, sending the shards of paper along the floor into a frenzy. He shuddered, wondering what it looked like outside. Was it day or had the sun set and turned the sky dark? He'd lost track of time, no longer sure how long he had been away from the real world, for he did not think of the damp, dark place as part of the world. At least it wasn't a part of his usual life. He was used to getting up and going to work, talking with his clients and getting them the best that he could for pay most other lawyers would laugh at, then he would return home. Of course, there were those moments that he spent with Martin. That had been a big change in his life. In the beginning he had been so uncertain, so afraid to let his feelings take root but over the last month he began wondering about the future, about where they would be in the next few years. Thoughts like that kept him from going insane in the current situation.

For the umpteenth time he struggled against the rope that bound his wrists behind his back. He knew that there was no way he was going to get free; the knot was a piece of work. But the movement kept the blood circulating, kept his arms and hands from going numb. He stretched his legs out in front of him, amazed that they hadn't tied rope around his ankles. He was free to get up and walk around as he pleased. Not that it matter all that much. The only door to the room remained locked so there was little chance that he could just walk out and get help on the street. Wherever he was, though, he knew that he was still indeed in the city. Over the hours he'd heard the thrumming of music, the cries of a baby, a heated argument between lovers, and someone had turned their television up rather loud. Combined with the broken window and the decrepit appearance of the room he figured that they- whoever they happened to be- were keeping him in a rundown apartment building, the last stop before people ended up on the streets.

As he struggled to his feet and began walking around the room like a caged tiger he wondered for the hundredth time if this had something to do with his work. Had he pissed someone off because he didn't get them the settlement they wanted? He tried to wrack his brain, going over the last few months in hopes of recalling some angry client that escaped him but to no avail, he could think of no one. So he started to think that maybe it was someone on the receiving end, someone that he got money from. Not that anyone living in a place like this could have a lot of money. That thought brought him to a stop. Maybe that's what the whole thing was about. Someone lost a fortune to one of his clients and then found themselves living in this building…if it had been him he'd be pretty pissed.

Enough to kidnap the lawyer responsible?

He sighed, resting against the wall. His gaze shifted over the windows that made up most of one wall. Someone had taken their time to paint them black so that anybody inside couldn't see out. They didn't want him to know exactly where in the city that he was and that made him curious. Maybe he was somewhere he knew. The window to the far left was broken in the upper corner but he couldn't see much but darkness through it. Another building? The night sky? An alley? It was hard to tell.

All of a sudden there came the sound of a key turning in the lock. He let himself slide to the floor. Last time they had caught him standing they forced him to the floor, a gun pressed against his head. Though he didn't believe they meant to kill him he wasn't about to give them any reason to. Settling on the dirty carpet in a room that was getting chilly he waited. One of the guys walked in, the cliché black ski mask covering his facial features. That didn't matter. Danny could tell by the color of his skin and the sound of his voice that he was Cuban by birth, probably raised there most of his childhood. It was one more minor detail that he stored away in his mind for when he got out of here. And he would get out of here. He would…

"And how's the little prisoner doing today?" the guy said in a gruff voice.

Danny only grunted in response. He knew that they weren't interested in his well being.

"Do you think anyone is going to come to your rescue? Do you think anyone cares?"

He narrowed his eyes, a touch of anger in his voice. "Martin will come for me. He won't stop until he finds me because he cares. And when he does find me you guys are in for a world of hurt. We're talking serious time behind bars."

The kidnapper laughed. "Martin…you mean that FBI pretty boy? The one that works for the Missing Person's Unit?"

Danny could feel the increase of his heartbeat.

The kidnapper stepped closer. "Why do you think you're here, lawyer? Did you honestly think this was all about you? You're a nobody, just some lowlife that couldn't make it in the world. Nobody cares about you. Not even that boyfriend, that pretty boy, of yours. He isn't even trying to find you."

He closed his eyes so as to not let the anger gain control of him. He had to keep his wits about him if he wanted to make it out of here in piece and alive. "Martin will find me. He'll go out of his way to save me. You don't know what you're talking about."

"Delusional idiot," the kidnapper muttered as he left the room, locking the door behind him.

Danny was happy to be alone once again. He was free to think in the silence of the room. And though he knew he loved Martin he wasn't exactly sure how the agent felt about him. What if they were right, what if he was a nobody? What if no one was looking for him? He shook his head, driving those thoughts from his mind. No, he couldn't think like that. He would be found and it would be Martin that rescued him. He knew that the agent had troubles of his own but there was something special between them, something that he was going to believe in even if he was the only one. He closed his eyes, letting his head rest against the peeling wallpapered wall. In his mind he pictured Martin, his smile and the way it would light up his blue eyes, the way he could make Martin shiver by talking to him in Spanish. He clung to these moments like a life preserver because at the moment it was all he had.


	7. Carrying On

**Chapter Seven: Carrying On**

When he rolled out of the bed the next morning that the behest of his alarm clock he realized that he didn't want to head to work. He couldn't stand the idea of going to the office just to see Danny's picture up on the white board knowing that there was nothing he could do to help his friend, his lover. He sat on the side of his bed, his elbows resting on his legs, his hands clasped. He felt like screaming, like crying out but where would that get him? Nowhere, so he kept the urge locked inside. Instead he reached for the bottle of pain medication on the nightstand. There was already a noticeable drop in the count since he'd taken the bottle out of hiding yesterday. The pills weren't the answer he was looking for but it gave him something. Something that he couldn't quite put his finger on but he needed their numbing power, their ability to help him forget for a little while just how much his heart ached. He knew, of course, that the drugs couldn't really numb the pain of his heartache but it was a nice theory so he was fine with it, happy to let it slide, happy to accept the lie.

As he sat there in the gloomy room, the sun having not yet risen above the horizon, he tried to imagine what it would be like if Danny never got found. How would he carry on without the man that meant the world to him? Looking back over his shoulder he tried to imagine if he would be able to get used to sleeping alone again. For months not a night had gone by in which they did not sleep side-by-side in this very bed. It was hard to fall into at night and even harder to get out of in the morning without the promise of his lover. He closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh of anxiety. There had to be something he could do, someway that he could speed up the investigation without pissing off the kidnappers.

He stood, shuffling toward the bathroom door in the inky blackness. There had to be a solution to the problem. There was always a solution; the trouble came in finding it. He flicked on the light, blinking rapidly as his eyes adjusted to the sudden light. Then he leaned against the counter and stared at himself in the mirror. Already there were dark circles under his eyes; he looked pitiful and things were only going to get worse the longer he had to go without. There was a part of him that said fuck the kidnappers. Jack and the team were good at what they did. If they really put their minds to it they could probably find Danny before the sun set that day. But even as he turned on the shower he knew that he wasn't going to say anything to them. He didn't want to take the risk. What if they got there too late? He would never forgive himself.

Stepping under the stream of water he realized that he was going to have to carry on, act like Danny didn't exist to begin with. He was going to have to do his job without letting the others know just how affected he was by the kidnapping of the lawyer. As far as they knew he was a straight man with a girlfriend somewhere. That's what his friends thought of him. Maybe because he'd dated Sam for a brief period of time. That relationship had ended a month before he met Danny, a month before his life changed for the better. Not to say that Sam wasn't anything to him because she was and he'd always value her friendship. But when it came to love, Danny was the one the held the key to his heart.

He could feel the tears trying to break free of his eyes so he let them fall. In the shower they quickly disappeared in the streams of hot water. Water that he decided wasn't hot enough. He turned it up, his skin turning red under the now steaming water. He wished that the force of the water, that the sheer heat of it was enough to melt away the very essence of his soul, to remove him from the world. But it couldn't, it wouldn't and he was left standing in the middle of his bathroom dripping wet. A sudden urge came over him, brought on by the anger boiling deep inside, and he struck out. The room filled with the sound of shattering glass as the mirror fell into shards, little sparkling diamonds covering the counter and spilling onto the floor. He didn't care. He ignored the mess, walking back into his bedroom.

The mirror would serve as a reminder of how he felt.

Shattered.

--

Somehow he managed to get to work. In the ride up in the elevator he tried to think of how to spend his day. He needed to do his work without interfering in the investigation but also keep his friends from asking him what was wrong. He wasn't going to play games anymore. He wouldn't stop them or redirect them. He was just going to sit by and let the case flow wherever it wanted to go. He figured he could tell Jack that he'd had a lousy night and that he'd rather just be their connection in the office. It's not like things hadn't been done that way before.

As though the universe agreed with him, when the doors of the elevator opened on his floor he found Jack waiting. He tired to smile at his boss but even he knew that it didn't come across right. "Morning, Jack."

"You okay, Martin?" his superior asked. "Did you get enough sleep last night?"

Martin massaged the back of his neck somewhat nervously. It was like Jack had been reading his mind. "It was rough…"

"How about you stay in the office today?" he suggested. "I can work alone and the girls are already out on a lead. We need someone here to run background checks and handle any calls. Think you can handle it without falling asleep at your desk?"

"Yeah," Martin said, a tad unnerved.

Jack clapped him on the shoulder as he headed toward the elevator. "Good. We're going to find this guy."

Martin remained where he was standing until the elevator doors closed and his boss was gone. He turned to head toward his desk, freaked out by the fact that his boss had read his mind. He knew that it was just the simple fact that Jack was good at noticing things but it still bothered him. A minute later he fell into the chair behind his desk. When he swiveled around he spotted the picture of Danny on the white board. All he could think about were those beautiful brown eyes…


	8. Ramblin' Man

**Chapter Eight: Ramblin' Man**

The day dragged on rather impossibly long. He thought that sitting at his desk and keeping out of the investigation would be helpful, would keep him from losing his mind. Boy had he been wrong. Being at the office as their go-to-guy left him waiting for their phone calls and in between calls he could feel his heart rate increase. But each time before panic could set in the phone would ring. He spent a lot of his time running background checks on people that turned out to be clients of Danny's. Though at one point he did run a check on someone in the building that Sam thought could be a suspect. During a lull around two in the afternoon he decided to check-up on Danny's brother, just to learn more about the guy since Danny didn't talk about him all that much. He typed in the man's name and read the police reports. He was nearly done when his cell phone began to ring. This put him off guard because the others had been calling on the office phone. Frowning he looked at the caller ID.

"Hello?" he answered when he saw that it was Danny's number.

Again he could hear things going on in the background but couldn't quite make anything out. After a minute or two the connection ended and he found himself listening to dead air. He flipped the phone shut and closed his eyes, holding back the wave of emotion that threatened to sweep him away. He thought that staying in the office would help remove him from the case but instead he'd been thrown right back in. He slammed a fist down on the top of his desk and enjoyed the pain that coursed through his knuckles. He dropped the phone. Then fished around in his suit jacket for the bottle of pills. Carrying them on his body was a risk that he was willing to take if it meant having them near when he needed them. Like right now. Without the others around he was free to pop one of the little white pills and he did just that, chasing it down with a swig of water.

Then the black phone on his desk rang and everything began again. This time it was Jack having him check-up on someone. It turned out to be another dead end. As did the three calls following. All the people were checked off the list and Martin soon realized that they were winding their way back down to square one. He hated being back where they started. And what made it even worse was that he didn't have to try stalling the investigation; it was going nowhere to begin with.

When the others finally returned to the office he beat it out of there like a bat out of hell. There was somewhere in particular that he wanted to go. In the few times that Danny talked highly of his brother he mentioned that Rafi worked at an auto body shop. The place had been listed on his record under the employment section so it didn't take long for Martin to locate the shop. When he got there, though, he felt a little overdressed for the place. He didn't plan on sticking around to begin with. He just wanted to talk with Rafi and see if the guy could be of any help to him. The look he got from the clerk behind the counter when he asked for Rafi wasn't exactly a look of trust. Maybe coming to the guy's place of business hadn't been such a bright idea. But he needed to talk with Danny's brother. He waited quietly until Rafi came through the door.

"What the hell do you want now?" he asked, rolling his eyes in frustration. "I already told you that I got no idea where my brother is; leave me alone."

"Can we talk somewhere private?" Martin inquired. He looked at the few guys milling around the garage. Every once in a while one of them would look at him.

Rafi threw down the rag he'd been wiping his hands with. "You got some place in mind?"

"Well…no, to be honest I don't," he replied, ashamed to admit it.

"Fine," sighed Rafi. "We can go 'round back. The employee parking lot should be pretty empty right about now."

Martin let Rafi lead the way, wondering if it was such a good idea to be following an ex-con out into a dark parking lot blocked from the street. He wished that he hadn't left his gun back in his car. Why had he done that? What he wanted to tell Rafi…there was no way of predicting how the other guy would react. Martin just prayed that he wouldn't get his ass kicked. Stepping into the night the sounds of the city were somewhat muffled in the space between the buildings. Three cars and a motorcycle were all that remained in the parking lot. He instantly knew which one belonged to Rafi because it had been listed in the records.

"So what is it that you've come to accuse me of now?" Rafi asked, his hands on his hips. There was a mean glint in his eyes.

Martin put up his hands in a gesture of innocence. "I didn't come here to accuse you of anything. I was just wondering if I could ask for your help…"

"How many times I gotta tell you that I don't know anything?"

"I want you to help me find Danny…in ways that aren't exactly lawful."

That caught Rafi off guard. "Is this some sort of trap?"

"No," Martin shook his head. "Danny's my friend and…well…there's a few complications that keep me from doing my job. Officially. So I want to do it little more…covertly, if you will."

"No friend of my brother would be dumb enough to make a deal with me."

"Just hear me out…"

"Alright, fine, you get five minutes," Rafi answered. This time he crossed his arms over his chest.

Martin smiled. "I won't even need that long."


	9. Black Jack

**Chapter Nine: Black Jack**

Jack had paperwork spread over his desk in front of him but though his eyes skimmed the pages he wasn't exactly reading the words. His mind was in another place. Still thinking about the case but now more focused on Martin. Something was going on that he wasn't entirely able to figure out. He had this overwhelming feeling that his subordinate was keeping vital evidence from him and that angered him. How many years had he been working with Martin? How many cases had they seen go wrong because they didn't have all the information they needed? He closed his eyes as he let out a deep sigh. After all that they'd been through, including the run-ins with Victor Fitzgerald, Jack thought that he could rely on Martin to come to him with every problem he had. If Martin could confess to having an addiction to pain medication then why couldn't he tell Jack what was going on this time around? Maybe he would actually have to ask about it.

Looking back over his shoulder he was able to see the desk, their main working area. The girls were busily trying to do their job, taking and making calls, tracking things down on the net but Martin was nowhere in sight. That angered Jack a little. More than anything it made him worried. As long as he'd known Martin the younger man made a point of showing up for work on time and putting all of himself into getting the job done. Even when he was high on pain medication. The younger Fitzgerald had this drive to prove to his father that he was good at what he did, that he could pull out of his shadow and that he didn't need his influence to get the job done. The latter is what made Jack respect him more than the others. Here was this young agent whose father happened to be one of the FBI directs but instead of using his father's position Martin tried to do what he could with the power their team had, no pulled strings from his father. How many guys would do the same thing? How many guys had Jack seen that actually used their father's or grandfather's position to further their own career? Martin happened to be cut from a different cloth.

So why did he seem to be deeply bothered by the disappearance of a second-rate lawyer? Were they friends? Did they even know each other or was there something else, like a feeling of guilt or…?

All morning he had been pouring over records on Danny Taylor trying to figure out what the guy might mean to Martin. All he'd accomplished was making himself feel like a walking dictionary on the missing lawyer. Born Danny Alvarez he had changed his name sometime after the death of his parents; both tragically lost in a car accident when he was just a young boy. He and his brother Rafi both were placed in foster care. From the few things that Jack had been able to get on those year it looked like Danny hadn't exactly had the best of times. He changed his last name to Taylor so that he could outrun his past but the memories drove him to drink. Everything that Jack read said that the lawyer was a recovering alcoholic. Maybe that was the connection with Martin. Could they have met in a supporters group? He would have to keep digging. There were grey areas that left him with questions, like what prompted the troubled young man to become a lawyer and what event drove him to seek help for his alcoholism? Why did he still have contact with a brother who was into drugs and a small time criminal? These were questions that his papers couldn't answer for him.

But maybe Martin could.

He was beginning to think that the angle of a support group might be the way to go. But how could he know for sure when Martin was clearly keeping something from him? He could always try to find the group that Martin attend and see if maybe he could get a roster of names from the person in charge. That would be no easy task but perhaps it would garner him the information that he wanted. He was thinking of searching Martin's desk for any mention of the group when there was a knock at his door. He looked up to see Sam standing there. He beckoned her in.

"Do we finally have a break in the case?"

"I stumbled across an accident report from a few years back," she said, glancing down at the piece of paper in her hand. "Seems our lawyer got into an accident the day he was supposed to take the bar. Cops called to the scene said he was drunk, they could smell the alcohol on him. He was able to reschedule the test for a few months later and passed."

Jack took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Okay. Does it say what group he went to for support?"

"Um," she read over the printout for a few seconds. "I see mention of an Abuse Supporters Anonymous. That's where the judge sent him but…"

"How does a man with a history of alcohol abuse end up passing the bar?"

"The judge said he showed promise, that he would make a great lawyer if he could just kick the habit," she told him. "And from his records, he could be making the big bucks. He's good enough to be a state attorney."

"So why isn't he? That money would give him a life that he's not used to," Jack mused. "He would finally have made it. Why stick to low key cases and an office in a rundown building?"

"You'll have to ask him when we find him," she said. "This little paper doesn't tell me everything."

He sighed, folding the arms of his glasses and slipping them into his pocket. "Would you like to go with me to this support group? Maybe we can find a clue. And tell Vivian to track down Martin. He's late for work."

--

The two of them headed into the non-descript building an hour later. On the way out Sam had told Vivian that she needed to locate their missing co-worker but so far there hadn't been any success. Sam kept it to herself that she was afraid something bad had happened to him. She'd noticed the change in him over the last few days, ever since they'd been given the case of the missing lawyer. For some reason this was affecting Martin in a different way, not like the other cases. This case and his reaction reminded her of the time he called her when his aunt went missing. There was an emotion attachment here. But what? Could Jack be onto something about the support group? Did they meet here in this gray and drab building to become friends? That led her down a road of confusion. If Taylor was Martin's friend then why not bust his ass to help solve the case? Unless of course he had something to do with it…

She shook her head to rid her mind of that thought. Martin was a stand-up guy. He would never hurt someone to further his own gains.

Lost in thought she'd neglected to notice that her boss was deep in conversation with someone who looked to be in-charge of things. She tried to immerse herself in the conversation but couldn't focus. As she looked around the place she could picture Martin coming here once to twice a week so that he could keep himself away from the pain killers. She was so impressed with him for breaking the habit. That showed he had strength, courage. So where was he when someone needed him?

"Thank you," Jack's voice broke through her muddled thoughts. She forced herself to focus, to concentrate on her job. Her boss turned to her. "Here's the list of people in the same group as Mr. Taylor. See any familiar names?"

Sam glanced over the page. Near the end of the list she found a name that jumped off the page. "Martin. So they know each other. You know, I was just thinking. If Taylor is Martin's friend then why is Martin not here trying to locate him?"

"That's one question I would like to ask him."

"Something's not right here…is it?"

Jack started to shake his head but on second thought he just shrugged. He had no way of knowing what sort of things transpired between Martin and the lawyer. But he would. Once he could get his hands on Martin. At that moment his phone rang. He handed the slip of paper over to Sam and dug the ringing device out of his pocket. Flipping it open he said, "Malone." He listened in silence as Vivian told him that she'd finally found Martin.


	10. Lucky to be Here

Note: Come on guys, where did you all disappear to?

* * *

**Chapter Ten: Lucky to Be Here**

The ride was a quiet one. Sam was bursting with questions but she could tell by the look on her boss's face that now wasn't the time to be asking them. She had to assume that the call had come from Vivian and that they were currently on their way to pick-up Martin, wherever he was. She knew that when they were alone there would be yelling of some sort. She could feel the anger rolling off of Jack. Not only had Martin kept a vital piece of evidence from the case he had also been in late for work. Hell, he hadn't even showed up as far as she could tell. That only made matters worse. She counted her lucky stars that she was along for the ride for the simple fact that she could keep Jack from killing Martin. It wasn't like the other man to be so…insubordinate was the only word that came to mind. Martin proved over the last few years that he was truly a hard worker, that he enjoyed his job. So what if he slipped up after getting shot? Could they really blame him for getting addicted to pain medication? He could have died that night, right there on that damp pavement. His whole life could have been over in the blink of an eye. Situations like that changed people. And it had changed him. He got addicted to the pills but he overcame them and threw himself into his work. She was afraid that he might be slipping.

"He's going to fall off the wagon," she said in the silence of the car.

Jack looked over at her for a second before turning his eyes back to the road. "What makes you say that?"

"Oh come on, Jack. He didn't show up for work and he's keeping things to himself? Sounds like he's already gone and fallen. This isn't good. We need to…"

"We need to what?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "I've never really dealt with someone who has an addiction before."

"You're not the only one," he said. "I don't know how to handle this situation. Part of me, hell, the majority of me wants to get in his face and yell at him. But then there's this voice in my head that keeps telling me that it's not what I think it is, that there's more than I can see."

"Which feeling are you going to go with?"

He shrugged as he pulled through an intersection. "Guess we'll have to wait and see."

--

Jack pulled the black sports utility vehicle into a spot along the curb and killed the engine. He looked out at the brick building, not really believing what he was seeing and yet at the same time it made sense. Unbuckling his seatbelt he got out of the car. He met Sam on the sidewalk. From the look on her face he could tell that she was having a plethora of unpleasant thoughts but below that he could see that she was worried. Worried about what? About Martin or about what he was going to do when he got the young Fitzgerald alone? The two of them headed inside, Jack in the lead. He stopped at the counter and spoke to the woman seated there. She listened and then told him to have a seat, that she would have a word with her boss and Martin would be brought around. Jack informed her that he wanted to speak to her boss, not Martin.

That upset Sam even more but she remained quiet, watching and waiting for the right moment to step in.

A tall man with a buzz-cut came through the door a moment later. He had crystal blue eyes but a stern smile. "Special Agent Malone, I was told that you wanted to have a word with me…?"

"Yes, I was wondering if maybe we could borrow one of your interrogation rooms."

"For the purpose of what precisely?"

"I would like to find out why my agent has been disobeying me, keeping things from me, and why he managed to end up here. You don't mind, do you?"

The other man smiled and nodded to show that he understood. "Not in the least. I've been down that road myself. I'll take you to one of our rooms and have Mr. Fitzgerald brought to you."

"Thank you."

--

Sam leaned back against the cool gray wall, afraid for some reason to sit. Something about the situation warranted that she remain standing. Maybe it was the energy crackling off her boss. She wanted to keep Martin safe but at the same time she could understand the anger. What had he done to end up in such place as this? And why had he done that one thing? She closed her eyes and let out a deep sigh of anxiety. When she'd gotten out of bed that morning the last thing she thought of was that she'd have to play referee between the two men she'd had a relationship with. This was going to be hell.

A minute later Martin was led into the room. He looked like he'd been through the wringer. His hair was messed up and their were dark circles under his eyes. His clothes were the same ones that he'd been wearing at work the day before but now they were dirty and wrinkled. What exactly had he been doing? He took a seat at the top, positioning himself across the table from Jack.

"You want to tell me why you're here?"

Martin swallowed, licking his lips somewhat nervously. "I…"

"I already know, Martin. You got arrested. Do you know what your father is going to do when this gets back to him? He's going to find out about your little addiction, Martin. Is that what you wanted? Did you want your father to know you've been popping pills?"

"No…"

"Then why did you do it? Did you think that I would just waltz in here and have you removed from the system like it never happened?"

Martin wisely remained quiet.

"There was a chance that I would have done that for you," Jack said. "But that went out the window when I found earlier this morning that you were keeping things from me. Things that happen to be vital to this case. Why didn't you tell me that you knew Daniel Taylor?"

"We went to meetings together," Martin protested. "That was it. I would say hi and we'd talk about our day but that was it. We weren't even really friends. I didn't think it mattered."

"It does matter. You know that!"

"Jack," Sam interrupted.

He ignored her for the most part but he did drop his voice. "There is something that you still aren't telling me. And I'm pretty sure that you won't come around for another day or two so I'm going to do the only thing that I can."

"What's that?"

"As of right now you are suspended."

"But-"

Jack held up his hand. "Just count your stars that I'm the one sitting across this table, Martin, and not your father. I'll post your bail and see what can be done about the record but I'm not making any promises. Once you're out of here your ass goes back home. And if I catch wind of you popping pills again it'll cost you your job and your father will find out. Do you understand me?"

"Yes," Martin said.


	11. Too Hard To Handle

**Chapter Eleven: Too Hard to Handle**

Martin let the door of his apartment swing closed as he stumbled into the darkness. Part of him should have been worried about the events of the day but it was how things went. The only thing he was truly worried about was whether or not his father would be paying him a visit. He sure hoped not because that was a distraction, a bump in the road that he could do without. As he tugged off his tie he headed toward the kitchen. He had things to do, people to call. And none of them worked at the office. He felt bad that he'd let both Sam and Jack down, that he'd left himself get caught with pills again. But worse than that he knew at some point he would have to confess about this little incident to Danny. And he wasn't sure he ever wanted to do that. Danny had so much faith in him, believed that he could break the habit permanently. If he could go years without a drop of alcohol than why couldn't Martin drop the pills for good?

Grabbing his cell phone he dialed quickly the number he'd committed to memory. Then reached into the fridge to grab himself a can of soda. Something stronger would have been nice but he didn't keep stuff like that around his apartment for the simple fact that his lover _was_ a recovering alcoholic. He wondered when someone stopped being 'recovering' from their addiction. Did they ever fully recover? Would he ever fully recover?

"Hey, it's Martin," he said when the person on the other end finally picked up. "I thought I would let you know that the plan is running smoothly." He listened in silence, nodding his head though the person on the other end couldn't see him. "All right, just buzz and I let you in."

He hung, leaving his phone on the counter and took his can of soda into the living room where he switched on a light. The place looked gloomy and dark. A flash of color caught his attention. One of Danny's shirts with the wild pattern, something that he'd worn on one of their nights out to a club. As he picked up the shirt he marveled at how strong Danny really was; he could go to a club where a lot of people were drinking and not a drip of alcohol would touch his lips. Martin prayed that Danny was strong enough to make it through whatever tests he was being given. The sound of the buzzer brought him back to the here and now. Shirt still in his hands he pressed the button that admitted entrance into his building. He made sure to ditch the shirt in the bottom drawer of his dresser before his visitor knocked on the door.

He opened it and stepped back, letting the other man in. When he closed the door he made sure to lock it.

"So all is set to go?" Rafi said.

"Yep," Martin replied. "I managed to get myself arrested this morning."

"Wow, I bet your boss was happy about that one."

"Happy enough to put me on a leave of absence," Martin smiled. "It worked like a charm."

"Just like you said it would."

"Now that I'm not bogged down with the obligation of work, what's our next move?"

--

Danny shivered involuntarily. For some reason his captors had thought it fun to dump a bucket of water on him. The fact that he was drenched didn't really bother him. Who cared if his clothes clung to him like a second skin? What did bother him was the fact that the water was cold and he'd be soaked for quite some time. He'd catch a chill. And in this place the last thing he wanted was to get sick. There was no telling what sort of viruses and bacteria lurked within the scum of his holding cell, for that was how he thought of it. This place was no longer a room in a rundown building, it was a holding cell. He only hoped that it didn't become his tomb.

He had to have faith in Martin.

The Fitzgerald could be so indecisive at times and maybe a little laid back but Danny could see that someone stronger lurked just below the surface. All that Martin needed was the right motivation, then there would be no stopping him. Danny hoped that he was the right motivation. Their relationship had been so…amazing. After the path his life had taken the last thing he expected was to actually fall in love with someone. It didn't bother him that the person who held the key to his heart was a guy. He'd gotten over that a while back. Now he just enjoyed the time they spent together, happy to be making memories that weren't painful or unpleasant. Though right now they made his heart ache. Would he get the chance to tell Martin that he loved him one more time? Would he get the chance, and the courage, to finally tell his brother that he was in love with a man? A man that just happened to work for the FBI. For some reason Danny figured that Martin's job would be a bigger problem than the fact that he was a guy.

He smiled. What would the two of them do if they ever got together?

He heard the familiar sound of the locks being undone. Instead of getting to his feet he remained in the corner where he was sitting. Why should he let them think he was afraid? Maybe they'd think he was trying to escape if they found him standing, waiting. No, he would sit on the dingy floor and keep his mouth shut and eyes adverted until told to do otherwise. He vaguely remembered working on a case in his schooling days where a woman had been held captive by a madman. The only reason she walked away alive was because she did everything he wanted her to do. He could do that, too. He would do anything to see Martin again.

Anything.

The door opened and in walked the familiar man in the mask. "Get up," the guy ordered.

Danny tried to stand but he was shivering so much, his legs wouldn't co-operate.

"Get up," the guy snarled.

Danny thought of a choice phrase but kept it to himself; the gag they'd placed in his mouth might have had something to do with it.

"What's the problem?" the other man asked as he came to stand in the doorway.

"Our little baby here seems to think he doesn't need to listen to orders anymore."

"Is that so?"

Danny wanted to tell them that he couldn't move, that he was cold but he couldn't.

The one who'd been standing in the door walked across the room and grabbed him roughly by the upper arm, pulling him to his feet. "Come on, we have a way of dealing with insubordinate people." The guy shoved him toward the door.

His friend laughed. "Look at the poor baby shiver. We'll make him nice and warm, won't we?"

"And I have just the way to do it, too."

As he slipped outside the room for the first time in…he didn't know how long he felt a shiver run down his spine. Something told him that everything was about to go from bad to worse.


	12. Too Free To Hold

**Chapter Twelve: Too Free to Hold**

"Do you realize that this could lead to career suicide?" Rafi asked as they stood on the sidewalk with cups of coffee.

"Do you think that I really care?"

The ex-convict ran a slightly dirty hand through his hair. "It should. You have a cushy job with lots of money. I saw the keys sitting on your coffee table. Not many people in New York own cars, even fewer own Porches. I should know since I work at a body shop. So tell me, why would a guy who has everything want to give it up for my brother? What, he win a case for you or something so you owe him a favor?"

Martin wanted to ask Rafi why he spoke of his brother like he wasn't anybody important, just another person to ignore when walked by on the sidewalk. "Because he deserves to be found. If you don't think I should be doing this then why are you helping me?"

"'Cause," shrugged Rafi. "I saw the photos in your apartment. You come from money but you have a job. You're one of those people that doesn't need to work every day but for some reason you do and the job that you do…finding missing people, getting shot at. Of all the jobs you could have taken…" He sipped his coffee. "And if anyone can find Danny it'll be you, what with all the training that you've had."

"And yet, I still can't do this on my own, that's what I need you for," Martin told him. "There are things that my job never allowed me to do but now…my leave of absence takes me out of my bosses care. I no longer have my gun or credentials but I see that as a good sign. I'm freer to move about and get things done, slip under the radar."

Something that Martin said made Rafi laugh. "Boy, you couldn't slip under the radar."

"Why not?" he frowned.

"Look at yourself," Rafi said with a gesture of his hand. "You're hair is neat. You're clothes are clean and trust me, that outfit still screams money. You don't have the manner or the…pizzazz to pull this off."

Martin looked down at his outfit. He'd left the apartment in a pair of blue jeans and a plain black t-shirt. He saw nothing wrong with the outfit he wore. Yes, his clothes were clean and they really didn't have any wear but…He ran a hand through his hair to mess it up a little more. If he had to he'd find some place to get a henna tattoo that said something like 'born to raise hell'. Anything that would help him slip into a world he usually investigated. Well, he wouldn't go so far as to kill someone. But then again, he didn't know just how far he would fall before he got Danny back. Hell, that precise moment he was standing on the sidewalk with an ex-convict and talking about doing things that the Federal Government never would let him do on the job. Things his father would kill him over. And he didn't care.

Shouldn't that have bothered him?

Was he really going to commit career suicide just to get back the lawyer that made him feel like the only person in the world? Everything that he had worked for in the last few years would have been a waste. And once kicked out of the FBI he'd probably have trouble getting a job as an officer of the law. Where would that leave him? Did he have any skills that he could fall back on? He guessed that he could always go into business with Danny, become like a private eye or something and help the lawyer with his cases. Not that Danny needed the help. He was a phenomenal lawyer, winning nearly every case that went to court and getting good settlements for those that didn't reach the court system. He smiled vaguely, his thoughts focused on the man he loved. He recalled a day when Danny came home from winning a big case and how excited he had been that day. One of the things he really loved about the lawyer was that as good as he was he continued to help the little people, letting them pay him what they could afford. Of course, that meant that he didn't always have a lot of money but who needed money? All they needed was each other. They'd gone to the park to play basketball, sat on the couch and watched television or just talked. For once in his life money wasn't the important thing.

He had to get Danny back. Even if it cost him his job.

"How do you think we should go about getting me the pizzazz?"

Rafi looked at him, then checked his watch. "Wait here. I'll go pick up a few things and we'll go from there."

--

Rafi hadn't even been gone ten minutes before a familiar black SUV with government plates pulled up alongside the curb. Martin thought about ducking into the nearest alley. Why would anyone he worked with be here, in his neighborhood? Did they have a lead? He watched as Sam climbed out from behind the steering wheel. He waited with baited breath to see who would climb out on the other side but the passenger door remained closed. That puzzled him even more. Jack had become a stickler about them sticking in pairs of two or three since the shooting. He wouldn't have sent Sam out by herself, especially since everyone in the office knew just how special Sam was to him. The only way she could be here without him or one of the others would be if they weren't aware that she was by herself. He thought that highly unlikely. Then again, it was Sam. She could be quite surprising at times. He thought he would watch to see what she was doing, be a quiet observer but it was apparent that she'd come looking for him.

She walked right toward him.

"Martin…"

"Go away, Sam," he said. He was worried that she would still be here when Rafi came back. The presence of a second agent might make the ex-con think that there was a set up or…

"I can't," she said. "Martin, something isn't right and you have to tell me what it is…"

"Please, Sam, just leave me alone. I'm not on the job and-"

"Jack is mad, Martin."

"Tell me something that I don't know."

She looked genuinely worried. "We subpoenaed Mr. Taylor's cell phone records…"

He felt the ground fall out from beneath him. "And…?" He managed to choke out.

"You're number comes up an awful lot," she said. "Including some rather recent, short calls. Jack is livid that you didn't share any of this with him. I thought I'd give you a heads up because he's on the war path. I've never seen him so upset. You do know that he's-"

Martin shook his head. "I can't deal with this right now. I'll explain everything. Can you please just leave?" He'd caught sight of Rafi.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't take you back to the office and leave you in Jack's office?"

He chewed over what to say to her as he watched the ex-con drawer closer. "Sam…please…"

"All I want is one reason, Martin. Just one reason."

"What the hell is going on here?" Rafi said, coming upon them. He looked at the black SUV and back at the blond agent who's hand was creeping toward her pistol. "You set me up or something, Fitzgerald?"

Martin shook his head. "No, I swear, Rafi, this isn't….oh god," he said as he fell back against the wall. Everything was spiraling out of control.

"Do you want to tell me what you're doing, Martin?" Sam asked. Her voice told him that she wasn't going to leave until she got an explanation that was satisfactory. But what could he possibly tell the two of them that would be convincing enough?


	13. Tried and True

Note: Sorry about the delay; health issues.

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen: Tried and True**

Sam decided that they should talk somewhere indoors but Martin didn't feel comfortable telling them the truth with all the people that were around. He didn't know how they would react to his…Sam would probably be taken aback and there was a chance that she already had her own suspicions about what was going on. But Rafi? How would the ex-con take to hearing that his brother liked sleeping with men? From conversations he'd had with Danny, Martin knew that Rafi knew nothing about his brother's sexual orientation. It didn't seem fair that he was the one to out Danny, that should have been something that Danny could do himself but the circumstances weren't normal. They were actually looking a bit grim. He watched Sam order coffee for her and Rafi because his stomach couldn't handle the hot liquid or anything else at that precise moment. He had to come up with a convincing lie or tell them the truth.

How did that old saying go? Honesty is the best policy?

The more he thought about it the more he liked the idea. He could swear Sam to secrecy and then at least one person in the office would know about his relationship. He would have someone that he could talk to about it, someone to share the ups and downs with, someone to get advice from. But he continued to hesitate for fear of what Rafi would do. What if the ex-con was homophobic or refused to believe that his brother preferred men to women? Getting pummeled by a guy with prison experience didn't really sound all that appealing. He weighed the options. Telling Sam won in the long run. He figured that if Rafi wanted to hit him at least Sam would be there to help. Assaulting an agent worked much the same way as assaulting an officer.

But he wouldn't do it inside.

When the two of them returned with cardboard cups of coffee Martin told them that he couldn't talk in here, that he needed to be somewhere quieter. Sam was fine with the idea. Rafi wanted to know if one of them was wearing a wire. For some reason Danny's brother couldn't get passed the fact that he was with two Federal agents; one who had asked for his help and the other one had bought him coffee. Usually the law was trying to get him to confess to something so Martin didn't blame him for being suspicious. The group left the coffee shop and turned down the nearest alley. There were puddles of questionable liquid and the place reeked to the high heavens but at least they were alone, nobody else would hear them. And few people would probably even notice that they were there.

"All right, Martin," Sam said, sipping her beverage. "Out with it. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't report to Jack the fact that you're hanging out with him," she gestured toward Rafi.

"Maybe he likes my company," Rafi shot back.

"Guys, arguing is not going to make this any easier for me," interrupted Martin.

Sam checked her watch. "The longer I'm here…"

"Yeah, yeah, I know," he said. He brought a hand to the back of his neck and rubbed it somewhat nervously. "Danny and I are…we met at a bar about a year ago or so. We had a light conversation, mainly me asking him why someone who didn't drink would be at a bar. Didn't really think much of it but then we kept running into each other. From there we started to hang out, maybe catch a game on TV or shoot some hoops. Innocent stuff that all friends do."

"If the two of you are friends why didn't you just tell Jack? He would have understood, Martin," spoke Sam. "He would have removed you from any field work but left you to be the liaison in the office. Why keep all of this a secret?"

"Because Danny and I aren't just friends…"

"Then what are you?" asked Rafi. Both of the agents could tell that the other man's patience was wearing thin.

He ran a nervous hand through his hair. It was now or never. Tried and true, honesty worked every time. "We…um…Rafi, there's really no polite way to put this but…your brother likes guys."

For a minute nobody spoke as the meaning behind the words suck in. From the look on Sam's face Martin judged that she was taking the news better, as he had expected she probably figured it out a little while back. He would mention offhandedly that he had a significant other, someone he cared about, but he never brought the person 'round or really talked about them. That had to make someone suspicious. He was just happy to know that Sam picked up on it first. Maybe now she would understand why they're relationship hadn't worked out. That it wasn't her so much as him and his attempt to hide from the truth.

Rafi looked at him, the expression on his face unreadable. "You mean to tell me that my brother is…that he's gay?"

"Yes."

"Why didn't he tell me?"

Martin shrugged. "I never asked him that. He just told me that he had yet to tell you about it…guess now he doesn't really have to worry about it."

"And you…you're his…" Rafi couldn't finish the sentence.

"Yes."

Another moment of awkward silence passed between them. Then Sam spoke up. "Well, that explains the phone calls and the whole pill situation. What it doesn't explain is why you're hanging out with him and why you got yourself knocked off the case. Shouldn't you be trying like hell to get him back?"

"What do you think I'm doing?" Martin said. "I got arrested on purpose, Sam. The people that took Danny left me a message that told me to stall the case. I tried but…so I paid Rafi a visit, told him that I needed his help. We had a pleasant chat, cooked up the plan of me getting arrested and put on suspension. That left me free to work the case from a different angle, ways that the FBI might not exactly like."

"Ah, I see," she said with an understanding nod of her head. "Jack is going to be pissed."

"I don't care. I just want Danny."

She smiled. "How can I be of service?"


	14. Hillbilly Shoes

Note: Since there is a lack of interest in this story...be forewarned that as of right now, it will be my last WAT story.

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen: Hillbilly Shoes**

He caught the amused twinkle in her eye and knew that he was never going to live this down. At least he should consider himself lucky that she didn't take a picture with her camera phone. If the others could see him now…they probably wouldn't even recognize him. He shook his head. The things he did for love. He just prayed that they actually worked and that he got Danny back in one piece. And that Danny wouldn't be mad with him when he found that Rafi knew about their relationship. Though when he really thought about it, having your brother know you're in a gay relationship seemed little compared to being kidnapped. He could only speculate what they were doing to Danny and the images in his mind were never pleasant.

Sam giggled. "This is priceless…I think I'm going to remember this day forever."

"I'm surprised you haven't taken a picture yet."

"Oh," she smiled brightly, "can I?"

"No, knowing you you'd find a way to use it as blackmail."

She giggled again. "Never."

"Please…" Martin rolled his eyes. He wasn't too happy with his appearance at that moment. Rafi had given him the make-over he needed to fit in with the seedy underground. He found himself wearing jeans that were old and worn with stains he didn't want to think about; they even had a tear over one knee. His shirt was a plaid button down, something akin to what a lumberjack might wear. Something he'd never worn before in his life and the fabric was making him itchy. Rafi messed up his hair and made him get dirt under his nails. For added measures he even smudged a bit across his cheek. He felt dirty and….a shudder passed down his spine. If only Danny could see him now. At least he would get to hear the sound of his lover's laugh.

"I like the footwear, nice touch," Sam said, her comment directed at Rafi.

He smiled. "I do good work, don't I?"

"He's never looked so….human. His father wouldn't even recognize him."

"In that case, take a picture. Let me give the old man the shock of his life," Martin grumbled. Somehow he was going to have to learn to walk in his new shoes. Rafi had brought him a pair of old workboots that had mud caked on the soles. Martin was used to wearing dress shoes at work and sneakers in his off time. These were definitely different. And the fact that Rafi wanted the laces loose only made the agent worry that he was going to trip and fall flat on his face. Once again he amazed himself with the lengths he would go to get Danny back.

Sam looked serious. "You know, if Jack and Victor find out about this…"

"I am a dead man. Or at least my career is over."

"Is it worth it?" she asked.

He didn't even have to think about it. "Yes."

"That's good to hear," Rafi spoke up. "Because you may end up doing things that you don't exactly agree with."

Martin nodded in understanding. He was going into the underbelly of society, a place his father always tried to keep him away from. There was no telling who he'd run into or what type of situations he'd be presented with. Though the adventure was alluring he couldn't help but feel timid. There was always a chance that this wouldn't work, that it would all be for nothing. But he couldn't allow himself to think like that, it wouldn't do him any good.

Sam checked her watch once again. "I'm gonna go, leave you guys to…whatever. I'll fabricate a story for Jack but you do know that eventually he's going to make you tell him the truth."

"Just give me time to find Danny…"

--

Sam rode the elevator in silence, trying to get the image of a dirty Martin out of her mind. She couldn't recall the last time she saw her fellow agent look so human. He came from money and though he declared he was nothing like his father there were things about his life that spoke of his rich upbringing. Like the way he dressed. She could recall seeing him in jeans but even then he always looked neat. Hell, he'd go out jogging when they were dating and his jogging suit was lovely. When he came back he still managed to pull off the I-come-from-money-look. She'd been rather envious of him. When she went for a run her hair always clung to her neck and her cheeks and she looked like some sweaty monster. She shook her head. Now was not the time to let her mind wander. She had to come up with a lie for Jack.

Finally knowing the truth about Martin made her feel calm. She could tell while they were dating that something was off, something hadn't been right. At the time she'd been unable to put her finger on exactly what it was but when Martin began talking about a new lover without giving too much away, she figured it out. And surprisingly, it didn't bother her in the least that a man she'd slept with preferred guys. Many gay men ended up getting married before realizing how they really felt. She still loved Martin, but she wasn't sure that she ever loved him the way he clearly loved Danny.

Or the way she'd loved Jack.

Who was waiting for her when the elevator doors opened. "Jack," she said slightly startled.

"Did you find him? You were gone long enough."

"He wasn't home," she said.

"Then where was he?" her boss asked.

She thought about how he would react if he knew the truth. He would go storming passed her, ranting and raving in anger at how stupid the young Fitzgerald was and how his father would be pissed. Then she wondered how he would take the news that Martin was with a guy. She didn't care. The point of her returning to the office had been to help delay Jack's finding out the truth. "He was out playing basketball. Said something akin to not being used to being cooped up all day. He does seem to be doing fine, though. I think maybe the arrest was an isolated situation and won't happen again."

Jack narrowed his eyes. "You're not telling me the whole truth."

She sighed. "All right, I'm not. We stopped to have some coffee. There, happy now?"

She didn't give him a chance to answer her. She stepped around him and headed toward her desk, expecting him to follow and badger her for more information. She was happy when he didn't.


	15. Trying to Survive

**Chapter Fifteen: Trying to Survive**

He had a good look around at his new surrounding, or at least what he could see of it. They had moved him from the room upstairs to a place within the basement. Unlike the bedroom, where he could pace and walk to stretch his legs, this place was small and cramped. He wasn't entirely sure but he figured that it might be a storage locker of some sort. He could smell the damp concrete smell and even more sickening the smell of urine. It made his stomach churn, which only served to remind him that he hadn't eaten in the last few days. Had it been days? It had to have been because the hours couldn't drag on so impossibly long. But if days had passed then why was he still here? Why hadn't anybody been able to find him yet? He felt like screaming and making a racket. He couldn't. His throat was dry and he was quickly running out of energy. More than anything he wanted to shake the feeling of impending doom.

Something about this situation really bothered him.

But he couldn't put his finger on it.

All he knew was that it wasn't what it seemed.

And that scared him.

--

Martin tried like hell to act the part of a man used to working manual labor and going to bars after shift to get drunk. He just wasn't sure he could pull it off so convincingly. He never thought he would find himself in such a seedy place. The walls were covered in peeling wallpaper that had been yellowed from years of cigarette smoke. Stains of all sorts dotted the floor like spots on an Appaloosa. He didn't even want to think what had made most of them. For once he was happy that he wasn't wearing his expensive Italian leather shoes. Sitting on the bar stool beside him was Rafi. They were dressed like many of the other men in the dark bar. He just couldn't get over the fact that he was actually doing this, that he was sitting on a sticky stool in a seedy bar with an ex-convict. What would his father have to say to him?

He actually smiled at the thought of his father's disdain.

Maybe when all was said and done he'd share this little adventure with daddy dearest, show him that he was never going to be the son that Victor Fitzgerald wanted.

Sipping his beer to keep up appearances he leaned slightly sideways. "When do we start getting somewhere? I can't stand sitting here for much longer. It's making me feel useless."

"Cool your jets," Rafi said, his voice its normal tone while Martin had been whispering. "Things happen when things happen. Force them to happen and people will get suspicious of you. And then you'll get your ass kicked to the curb."

"Okay." He sipped his beer again, not letting any of the liquid pass his lips. There was no way in hell he was going to get wasted in a place like this. He needed to keep his wits about him, be able to make snap judgments. He began to bounce his leg nervously as the minutes turned to hours. He watched through the tinted-window as the sun went down and the city came to life in a whole new way. The empty stools and tables began to fill up with all sorts of people. He pegged a few of them as drug traffickers and others as pimps. It was amazing how much his job had taught him. It was also amazing that he'd never been to this bar before, what with all the lowlifes he'd crossed paths with, this seemed to be their hangout of choice.

As it neared ten-o-clock the men grew rowdier, the alcohol coursing through their systems making them talk a little louder than necessary, laughing at jokes that weren't funny and some were even retelling the same story over and over again. A group near the back began to sing along with the song the jukebox was pumping out and not a single one of them could carry a tune. Martin was ready to give up. He couldn't take much more of this. He wanted to find Danny but this didn't look like it was working. The plan had been a failure. Now all he wanted to do was go home and shower off the stench of this particular joint before approaching the case from a new angle.

Just as he was going to suggest that they leave he heard Rafi clear his throat. Someone was approaching them. Martin felt his heart flutter in a moment of panic.

"Rafi Alvarez," the grizzled man said. "Haven't seen you 'round these parts in some months now. Getting back into those old habits?"

"Maybe," Rafi lied.

The man nodded at Martin. "Friend of yours? I ain't seen him here before."

"We've done some work together," Rafi said, sticking to the story him and Martin had thought up.

The guy gave Martin a good look up and down. "He reliable 'cause I got this job that I want you to help with. An extra set of hands never hurt."

"Yeah, he's reliable. What's the job?"

"Why don't we talk somewhere more private?"

Rafi eased off his stool. "Fine by me."

Feeling like this was the biggest mistake of his life Martin followed Danny's brother. A voice in the back of his mind began to nag at him, telling him that he needed to turn around and leave immediately. But like an idiot he kept walking. He followed the unknown man and Rafi through a backdoor that he hadn't even been aware was there. They stepped into an alley that was poorly lit. He could smell the rotting garbage and hear the rats digging around in the dumpster to his right. He was about to ask a question when one of the shadows in the alley moved. Every fiber of his being told him to run.

And he did.

--

Meanwhile, back at the FBI office, Jack stumbled across something that made the blood in his body run cold and the color drain from his face…


	16. Lonely and Gone

**Chapter Sixteen: Lonely and Gone**

Sam's cell phone rang in the middle of the night so when she arrived at the office about an hour later she was anything but happy. There had been no leads and Jack had sent them home with the order to sleep so that they could be fresh the next morning. Now he was breaking his own order, she saw, as she joined both Vivian and Elena at the table near their desks. They all looked like something the cat dragged in, having been awakened from the few hours of sleep they'd managed to sneak in. Not even two minutes after sitting down she learned that neither of the other women knew what they were doing in the office so late. Or was it extremely early? Sam was afraid to look at her watch to find out. Instead she looked around the office, with most of the lights turned off and them being the only people around it took on a different look. It was almost kind of creepy. She only glanced at the white board where a picture of Danny Taylor had been hanged. Martin had good taste in men; she had to give him that. She just hoped that they could find the lawyer before something happened to break Martin's heart.

She felt herself drifting off to sleep when she heard the clack of shoes on the floor. Trying hard to stay awake she watched as the object of her affection walked toward them. She could tell by the way he was dressed that he hadn't even gone home. He'd been in his office, probably got a few minutes of sleep on his couch.

"Jack, why are we here so damn early…or late…whatever time it is," she said, suppressing a yawn.

"Where is Martin?" he asked.

Vivian looked at her boss with tired eyes. "You put him on suspension."

"I wasn't asking…." He leaned on the table and looked at Sam. "Where is Martin?"

"How should I know? I'm not keeping tabs on him."

"Bullshit," growled Jack. "I don't know what it is that you're hiding but despite what you think, it's not going to help this case. Where the hell is he?"

"I don't know," Sam nearly yelled, all the sleep vanishing from her body. Why had she gotten up at this ungodly hour only to be yelled at by her boss?

Elena finally chose to speak up. "What's going on, Jack?"

The three of them watched as Jack walked over to the board and tore the picture of Danny from its spot. He slammed it down on the table in front of Sam, the sound making the three women jump, shaking away the last tendrils of sleep. "I want to know everything right now, Sam. Who is this guy and what does he have to do with Martin? And don't lie to me."

She swallowed nervously. It wouldn't be fair to out Martin to his co-workers without his consent but she wasn't sure she had any other choice. He would understand in the long run because that's the kind of guy that he was, right? She gazed at the picture of Danny, looking into his brown eyes and thinking about what kind of person he was. "Fine. But you're asking me to betray the confidence that Martin has in me."

"I don't care."

"Danny Taylor, born Danny Alvarez, as you all know," she started, "is a lawyer. He's a recovering alcoholic. His brother, Raphael Alvarez, is an ex-convict who's trying to make an honest life for himself, his girl and their child."

Jack's eyes got dark. "We already know all of that."

"Danny is Martin's…" she found that it wasn't that easy to say the words. She let out a sigh, composing herself. "They met in a bar and got to talking. They became friends. They became more…than friends."

"Boyfriends?" Vivian voiced with surprise.

Sam only nodded.

Jack didn't miss a beat. "Why would he fail to tell me that his boyfriend was missing?"

"Because someone threatened him," Sam said. "They wanted him to stall the investigation. That's why he started acting weird. Yesterday I ran into him on the street and he was hanging out with Raphael. He told me that he had planned the arrest so that you would kick him out of the office for a while."

"Why?"

"So he could work at finding Danny in ways that the FBI probably wouldn't like," she said in a hushed voice.

Elena jumped on the pause. "What is this all about?"

Jack finally sat in one of the empty chairs. He looked at Sam, slightly ignoring the other two. "I wish that I had known this before hand. I wish…then I wouldn't be sitting here about to tell you this…"

"What happened?" Sam asked, she could already feel the tears building up.

"The people that threatened him, that kidnapped Danny, they were never after the lawyer," he told them. "They used Danny as bait. Martin was their real target, probably because of who is father is. They wanted him, a Fitzgerald."

"And?" asked Vivian, her voice so quiet that it was almost a whisper.

"They got him."

--

_Roughly an hour earlier…_

_Jack had been trying to figure out the meanings of the clues left behind at the office. All the work that the team did kept coming up short. There was nothing in Danny's past that would prompt someone to do him bodily harm. Then only cause he could see for things to go wrong was if someone wanted to reach his brother, Raphael, by targeting his brother. But even traveling down that road he was unable to find any hard evidence. Danny's brother had been clean for half a year and seemed to be on the up and up. That's when he started to think about Martin's behavior, the fact that Sam was hiding something from him. It all made sense now, in a fogy, missing pieces, kind of way. And then he'd gotten the call._

_The call that took him to the hospital._

_He though maybe he would find Martin or maybe even Danny._

_Instead he stood face to face with Raphael Alvarez. The ex-con was laid up in the hospital bed with a broken arm and cut to his head. Jack wanted to know why the ex-con had the hospital contact him. And that's when Rafi told him about Martin._

_About how they had taken Martin._

_And that's when the biggest piece slid into place._

_They were targeting the FBI, specifically by going after Victor Fitzgerald and the only way to touch him was through his only son._


	17. Selfmade Man

**Chapter Seventeen: Self Made Man**

He stumbled around like a drunkard, banging into walls and scraping his knuckles along the rough bricks. He stumbled a few times, falling once into a cold puddle of water that flashed the rainbow effect of oil. He picked himself back up and continued. It was dark out and he was disoriented, the pain in his head almost too much to bear. It felt like someone had let loose an entire herd of elephants, letting them stomp around in his skull. What he wouldn't have given for a couple of aspirin to chase away the pain. What he wouldn't have given for a beer or something stronger; anything to take away the pain. And his head wasn't the only thing that hurt. There was a throbbing in his right wrist and his legs felt like jello, one of his ankles swelling. He couldn't remember if he'd received a blow there; he figured that it really didn't matter one way or the other. The one thing that really bothered him was the rattle in his chest that he could hear with every breath that he took. Was he sick? Had something been broken? He couldn't remember much of the last few hours.

He did remember the dark.

But nothing else.

No voices. No sound of any kind. Everything was a blur. And now he had no idea where he was or what was wrong with him. He did know that he was in the city. He also knew that he needed help. When he'd awakened he found himself at the end of a filthy alley, a busted cardboard box resting atop bags of garbage his resting spot. It had taken him a good fifteen to twenty minutes before he managed to get moving. That's when the pain had been the worse. It had lessened some with each step but he knew that before long he would be in even more pain as the fog incasing his brain slipped away. Before that increase of pain hit him he wanted to get as far away as possible. He had to keep moving.

And that determination is what brought him to the street. It wasn't a busy street, not as busy as some New York streets at night. The sidewalks were mostly empty, as were the streets. But by some sheer stroke of luck a cab happened to be heading in his direction. He held out his arm to hail it, praying that the driver would stop to give him a lift. Wheels traveled a lot farther than feet in a shorter amount of time. The driver pulled along the curb. Feeling like something had finally gone his way he pulled open the door and settled on the seat with relief. His muscles were sore from the walk down the alley. He could feel every fiber of his body, could feel the pain growing.

"Hey buddy, you don't look too good," the driver said. His words were clipped with an accent, something European.

"Take me to the Federal Building," he managed to get out, his voice sounding foreign even to him.

The driver looked over his shoulder. "Are you sure? Maybe you should go to the hospital."

"No, the Federal Building," he said more firmly.

"As long as you have money…"

He patted his pockets. Interestingly he found a wad of cash in the pocket of his shirt. Where had it come from? He showed it to the driver.

"Federal Building it is then."

--

Jack pinched the bridge of his nose, his glasses sitting on the table to his side. He heard Sam trying to cover the yawn that had snuck up on her. Vivian had disappeared a few minutes before hand to call her husband in private. Elena had followed her out of the immediate area, heading to get them all freshly brewed coffee from the break room. They should have gone home hours ago, having been in the office since the wee hours of the morning. They spent all day trying to find Martin, following every lead that they could and Jack had been forced to guarantee Victor Fitzgerald that he would find his son. He could feel the pressure building.

What was he going to do?

They had no leads to go on; nobody had seen the guy approach Rafi at the bar. One of the patrons told him that everybody who stopped in the place kept to themselves, got into the habit of not noticing what was going on around them. He could understand that; getting caught listening in to the wrong person's conversation could have dire consequences. He'd seen proof of that. Something had to show up soon, even if it was so seemingly insignificant, he would be glad to have it. He heard the click of heels on the floor and opened his eyes. Elena had returned with the coffee. He hoped the warm liquid would be enough to keep him going for a while longer. He was preparing to send Sam and Elena away to catch a few hours sleep. When they returned he and Vivian would catch some shut eye. They needed to stay alert. They needed…

Vivian came into the room looking more alert than the rest of them. The expression on her face was enough to push away some of the sleep that tugged at him like a drug.

"What is it?"

"The front desk just called," she said. "They said someone is downstairs asking for you."

"They say who?"

She shook her head. "Guy wouldn't give out his name. Just seems to be pretty adamant that he talk with you."

Grumbling under his breath, mentioning something about it being too late at night for shit like this, he headed toward the elevator. Only when he stepped inside did he realize that Vivian had followed him. He raised an eyebrow at her but understood that she was concerned. For all they knew the guy downstairs could be a maniac with a gun. Though he would have had to go through the metal detector to even get into the building. The ride seemed to last longer than usual in the silence that had settled between them. It was like the calm before the storm. Finally the ride came to an end, the doors opening a second after the chime announcing the floor number. Almost instantly they could hear the sound of a confrontation. Someone kept repeating themselves, rather vehemently, that they wanted to speak with Jack Malone.

He rounded the corner with Vivian close behind.

And was shocked at what he saw.

A man with blood, dried and fresh, on his face was standing in the lobby. His tattered clothes and messed up hair made him look like one of the many homeless living in the city. Despite all the dirt Jack was able to make out the features of the panicked man. Before he could say anything he was spotted. The man, who was obviously injured, pushed his way past the two security guards who had been holding him. One of them made an attempt to grab his wrist.

"It's okay," Jack said, "let him be."

"Jack Malone?"

"Yes," he replied. "And you're Danny Taylor."

"How do you…"

"We've been looking for you."

Jack saw something in his eyes, something in his body language changed. He stepped forward just in the nick of time, reaching out as Danny's body gave into the pain and he blacked out.


	18. If a Broken Heart Could Kill

**Chapter Eighteen: If a Broken Heart Could Kill**

He waited anxiously for the young man to awaken, knowing that the lawyer might be able to tell him something vital in the case of Martin's disappearance. Even if it was just the location of a building he'd been held in before being moved to some other place. At least they'd have a chance of finding trace evidence and they could go from there. He sat in the chair behind his desk, his eyes never straying from the young lawyer. After blacking out in the lobby Jack had him carried up in the elevator and laid on his couch where two medics looked him over. Eventually he would have to go to the hospital for some x-rays. Jack had told the two men that he would drive him there in a little while. They left after giving Danny a dose of a pain medication, saying that he would be fine for a while but there was a chance that his wrist was broken, his ankle sprained and he might have had a broken rib or two.

But Jack was reluctant to let the lawyer out of his sight for a minute without having a chance to talk with him.

He had to find Martin…

Without losing Martin's boyfriend.

Boyfriend.

The word still didn't sound quiet right to him. He knew that there was something lurking within Martin, some inner conflict but he'd never pegged it as this; a same-sex relationship. Unfortunately he understood all too well why the younger Fitzgerald would want to keep such a thing a secret. His father wasn't going to like finding out about it. Jack just hoped that he could keep Victor from finding out before they located his son. Martin had to be the one to break the news to him, preferably with Danny at his side. The lawyer did have a clean, respectable record going for him. And Jack had to admit that he wasn't a bad looking guy once the medics had washed away all the blood and bandaged the cut along his hairline.

Jack hoped he kept Martin happy. He really needed it.

The lawyer began to stir. Jack waited patiently as he came to, fighting through the fog of the pain medication and the effects of whatever his captors had done to him; the toll unknown at the moment. He managed to sit up on the couch, bringing a hand to his head. Before he could ask Jack was up and out of his seat, walking across the room with a bottle of water. Danny took it with something that looked like gratitude in his eyes. Instantly Jack began to wonder how long the younger man had been without water, without food. What had they done to him?

He waited. That's all he could do. He _wanted_ to start questioning Danny to keep from losing anymore valuable time but he knew that it wouldn't do either one of them any good. He'd only get upset when the lawyer couldn't remember a vital piece of evidence because his head hadn't been given enough time to clear. There was no telling what sort of things he'd been made to endure, no telling how he would react to certain questions. This was a delicate situation…a rather important delicate situation.

"Where's Martin?" were the first words out of Danny's mouth.

Jack debated internally whether or not he should tell him the truth. In the long run he figured that he should skirt the revelation for a few minutes longer, get some information out of the lawyer before he fell apart. "Can you remember anything about what has happened in the last couple of hours?"

He shook his head. "I woke up in an alley…I remember that much…then I cam here…"

"Why did you ask for me instead of Martin?"

"I didn't want to risk getting the wrong Fitzgerald."

Jack saw the understanding behind that. "Okay. Tell me what happened, everything that you can remember."

"It won't be much," he replied. He went on to give his best description of the two guys that had been keeping him captive but it wasn't much since they were always wearing ski masks to hide their features. He talked about the dilapidated building, the room that he'd been kept in there with the peeling wallpaper and the broken window. Then he told Jack about the move to a new place, somewhere cool and damp with concrete all around. He recalled the dark. Then everything began to get blurry. He didn't go into any details about what they might have done to him but Jack had been present at enough interrogations to know that most of the trauma was physical. Aside from a few blows here and there he didn't think they'd done much to him. After all, their main target had been Martin. But what did they want with him?

It had to be something to do with Victor Fitzgerald.

"Excuse me a moment," he said, standing and heading out of his office.

He found the three girls waiting for him to make an appearance. The four of them had looked so rundown and tired just hours ago. Now it was like they'd all been blessed with a second wind, the sleep gone from their eyes and their moves no longer sluggish. There was a chance that they could get somewhere in the case now that they had Danny. Jack was already trying to think of place where the building might be that Danny spoke of. He would be able to send a few teams to check the places out. Victor could pull a lot of strings and he was more than willing to in order to get his son back. Jack wondered if he would be so willing if he knew that his son was dating a man. Victor didn't seem like the kind of guy to be okay with the relationship.

But that was something to worry about later.

Like when they had Martin back.

He wanted to brief the girls on what he'd gotten but before he could open his mouth he heard Danny's voice. "Where's Martin?"

He looked back over his shoulder. "You shouldn't be up and walking."

"Where is Martin? Why isn't he here?" Danny asked, taking an unsteady step forward.

Sam got up and walked over to him, taking him by the arm and directing him to the nearest chair. She seemed to be completely at ease around the new guy even though she knew that he was dating Martin; the same guy she had dated not too long ago. Jack was amazed, wondering how she could do it.

"Why aren't you telling me where he is?"

Jack sighed. "Because we don't know where he is."

"You don't…" Danny looked confused.

"The men that took you, they used you as bait to get to him. Only we didn't figure it out fast enough because Martin kept a few key things to himself; like the fact that you're his boyfriend. He got himself put on suspension so that he could covert around the seedy parts of the city with your brother in hopes of finding you, without us to back him up."

Danny looked even more confused. "My brother…Rafi….he never met Rafi."

"We interviewed him when you disappeared," Jack admitted. "There was a chance that you had been taken because of him. Right now he's in the hospital. Apparently he was at a bar with Martin when he followed someone he thought he could trust and they were jumped. He has no idea what happened to Martin. Neither do we."

Danny turned his brown eyes to Jack. "You have to find him. You…please…"

It was Sam that put her hand on his shoulder. "We'll find him. We always find who we're looking for." What she didn't add was that sometimes they found them after they'd passed away. She could already tell that he was falling apart, why make it worse?


	19. Trouble Is

**Chapter Nineteen: Trouble Is**

"The trouble with finding Martin is that we don't have anything to go on," Jack said. He was pleased to hear that his voice was steady and even. The last thing he needed was to sound like someone who couldn't keep their cool under such dire situations. Though he was beginning to sweat a little and he felt a bit uncomfortable he remained in the position he'd taken. Shifting around would only give away his real emotions. He wasn't cool under the pressure. Not the pressure from someone like Victor Fitzgerald. Martin's father never liked him; he knew that because of Martin. Now Victor was convinced that this whole thing could have been avoided had Jack been doing his job properly. Jack kept thinking it would have been easier if Martin had only confessed in him that he had been dating the lawyer. Why had Martin kept it from him?

"What about that lawyer? Why can't you get anything out of him?" Victor asked his voice gruff and unhappy.

"We're trying everything, including talking with him but he's in the hospital," Jack felt the need to point out. "He took a blow to the head so there's a chance that he might have lost any vital memories."

"There isn't time for him to get them back. I want my son and if you can't get him back for me then I will do it my way," Victor said in a way of dismissing him.

Jack was all too happy to get up and leave the office. He hated feeling like a specimen under a microscope. If only he didn't have to talk with Victor. But what could he do? They weren't able to find Martin. After taking Danny to the hospital he had ordered teams to check for any buildings matching the lawyer's description. He was even able to send some people back to the alley where Danny awoke a few hours before. Now all he needed was for his phone to ring so that someone, anyone would tell him that they had found something. He needed to get a lead soon or he was going to lose his job; he could feel it. Losing a member of his team was bad enough but the son of an FBI Director? Not noticing the signs of the relationship and the fact that Martin was going to do something drastic? He had really fucked up this time around. He just prayed that he would get the chance to make it right.

--

Danny wasn't content with sticking around the hospital. Word would get out that he was there and before long he'd be seeing old clients, current clients and possibly even his brother. Usually he'd be happy to see them, put on a smile and listen to them. It was the kind of person he had become. But today the last thing he wanted to do was pretend that nothing was wrong when the most important person in his life was dealing with the same two bastards that he had. Lucky for him he wasn't plugged in to any of the machinery in his room. They had just wanted to keep him for observation and to put a cast on his wrist. Well the cast was in place and no doctors had been by in the last hour so he was going to slip out. And on his way out maybe he'd pay Rafi a visit, give him a piece of his mind.

--

His phone rang as he pulled the yes to his car out of his pocket. Checking the caller ID he saw that it was Sam. Quickly he answered the phone and listened as she told him that one of the teams had gotten a hit on one of the buildings. Then she went on to tell him that there was evidence in the alley Danny had come to in; which one was he more interested in? He told her to send Vivian and Elena to the alley while she met him at the building. He figured their luck was finally looking up but he wasn't going to let this little step forward get to him. There was no telling what they would find or if there was even anything for them to find. All he knew was that he had to get Martin back. Not to save his own ass but so that he could have his friend back, so that he could reunite the agent with his boyfriend.

Boyfriend. The word still sounded weird, even though he'd spoken it allowed not too long ago while talking to Danny. It would take some time. A little adjusting.

Martin was still the same Martin. The same hardworking agent trying to get out from under his father's thumb. The same Martin that dated Sam. He was human and Jack wasn't going to tell him who he could or could not love. Though Victor might not be too happy in learning that his son liked men over women. Why did he keep coming back to that? What did he care if Victor hated his son because of his sexuality? Easy, because a parent should accept their child for whom they were and this happened to be out of Martin's hands. He was born this way and there was no way of changing it.

He would support his daughters in any way. He would always love his daughter. Even if the oldest one didn't really love him anymore. He was their father and his love wasn't going anywhere.

So lost in his thoughts, consumed by all the conflicting emotions he almost ran a red light; which most likely would have resulted in an accident. He wasn't going to be of any help to anyone if he couldn't focus on what he was doing.

--

"Danny," Rafi said happy to see his brother standing their in his hospital room. Danny ignored the fact that both Rafi's girl and son were in the room. He didn't care. He walked over to the side of Rafi's bed, anger clouding his eyes.

"How could you?"

Rafi looked confused. "How could I what?"

"How could you do that to him? You let him get a foolish idea in his head and you let him act on it. What the hell is wrong with you?" He was trying to keep from yelling but it wasn't working that well.

"I…he came to me, Danny. He wanted my help," Rafi tried to explain, telling him the truth. "I thought that if I helped the FBI that you would be found quicker and maybe the authorities would leave me alone for a while."

"So that you could start back on your old habits?"

"Danny," Rafi protested, amazingly managing to keep his voice calm. "Do not do this here. What's done is done. He wanted my help and I helped him. I didn't know it would end this way."

Danny grabbed the front of Rafi's hospital gown in fisted hands. "He's not from our world, Rafi. He grew up with a silver spoon. You never should have taken him anywhere with you. You're a bad influence. And I swear, if you got him killed…"

"My son…" Rafi said.

He looked over at his nephew before letting Rafi go and heading toward the door. Before stepping out he only had one more thing to ask. "What bar did you take him to?"

His brother hesitated in answering. Then said, "I took him to the same old joint."

--

There wasn't any evidence at the alley. Nothing that screamed important amongst the trash. They did manage to find some blood along one of the walls but when the tests came back it tested as Danny's. That only proved that he'd been in the alley. They found nothing to suggest how he gotten there or who placed him there. It was a frustrating call for Jack. The sun had come up an hour ago and before long Martin would be missing for twenty-four hours. He hadn't slept in forty-eight hours. He was starting to feel taxed. Before long he would be making mistakes. Mistakes they didn't need. But he couldn't sleep knowing that someone had Martin, not knowing what they were doing to him.

He watched the forensic people poke around the apartment in hopes of finding something. He could hear the sounds of agents in the hallway as they spoke with the few tenants in the rundown building. All he needed was one little nugget of evidence. A few minutes ago Sam had disappeared into the bedroom that turned out to be the place Danny had spoken of. His blood was there, too. The place reeked, smelling like excrement and mold. This is where they kept the bait so where did they keep their prime catch? He was hoping the place was cleaner. All the disease in this apartment just waiting to get a foothold on some poor sap.

He tried to hide the fact that he jumped a bit when his phone rang. He'd already talked with Elena so who would be calling him? The number belonged to dispatch back at the office. He listened while the man on the other end told him that someone was requesting his presence. Looking around he figured that the place would be fine without him. He had only been standing in the same spot for the last ten minutes, holding his breath. Getting away for a few minutes might make him feel better.

--

He pulled into the bar parking lot, recognizing the place as the bar Rafi claimed to have taken Martin to. They had been all over the place once before and got nothing. Maybe someone had finally remembered something. But the two police cars with swirling lights told him a different story. Stepping into the dimly lit bar he had to let his eyes adjust before he went further. He could hear the sound of someone yelling, the voice vaguely familiar. He heard someone else, a voice of authority, trying to explain something to the irate person. And as he came into the bar proper he saw that a cop had cuffed Danny and was holding him by the arm. The lawyer saw him first, much like that moment in the lobby.

"I just want to find him…"

Jack looked at him. "I know you do, Danny, but doing things the way he did…it didn't exactly work the first time."

The lawyer looked pained. "I just…I can't…"

Jack motioned for the cop to remove the cuffs, wondering momentarily how the officer got them on over the cast. "Why don't you come back to the office with me? I have teams of forensic scientists going over the alley and building. Maybe they'll have something for us."

Danny shook his head, rubbing his good wrist. "No…not until you talk to the bartender. He knows something."

"What makes you say that?" Jack asked, looking at the unsuspecting man behind the bar, who was rinsing glasses.

"I used to come here with my brother when I was younger…when I was still an alcoholic. That's the same bartender and he never missed a thing back then. He never…he got used to keeping his mouth shut after getting beat. Nothing happens in this bar without him knowing. He just…"

Jack held up a hand and headed toward the bar. In a booming voice edged with threat he said, "If you have information that I need and you plan on keeping it from me even longer then I will haul your ass into the Federal Building. I won't be the one to grill you. No, I think I'll leave that to my missing agent's father; a director of the FBI. The guy's a pain in the ass, a royal pain in the ass. His one and only child is missing, do you really want me to sit you across a table from him and tell him that you know something about it?"

All the color drained from the bartender's face.

He took that as answer. "Tell me what I want to know. Or you're going for a ride."


	20. Tattoos and Scars

**Chapter Twenty: Tattoos and Scars**

With the co-operation of the bartender things started to happen at a fast rate. Jack learned what exactly went down that night, the things that Rafi forgot to mention because he didn't want, didn't think they were important, or because he just couldn't remember them. The bartender told him about seeing Martin and knowing right away that he didn't belong there. When asked how he knew the guy explained that the Martin carried himself, the way he looked around the bar; all were telling signs that he wasn't used to being in such a hell hole of a place. The bartender also pointed out that he watched Martin. Though he had ordered a beer he never once actually drank it; just brought the bottle to his lips a few time to give the allusion that he was enjoying it. Hearing that made Jack feel slightly better; Martin hadn't been under the influence of alcohol. There was hope that he managed to co-operate with his captors since he still had his wits about him.

When he pushed the bartender for a description of the guy who approached Rafi and Martin the guy faltered. During the course of the interview he'd grown more and more uneasy. Probably because there were patrons in the bar, watching him, noticing that he was talking to the FBI. Jack noted that the uniformed officers had stuck around. He mentally thanked them for being there because he hadn't been smart enough to bring his own back-up and though he had his gun, knowing that he wasn't the only authority figure in the bar did make things easier on him. He suggested that the bartender call in his replacement and come down to the office. The guy looked around, commenting on how much he was going to miss the place but that he'd been looking for a reason to quit anyway. When asked why he'd said that he was quick to explain that if he came back after the interview that he was likely to get his ass kicked for squealing. Maybe when he was younger that would have been fine, he would have stood his own. Now age was getting the best of him and he couldn't handle a beating.

They only had to wait fifteen minutes for the replacement bartender to arrive. Then they were all heading down to the office. Danny had become oddly quiet but Jack could tell that it was only a matter of time before something happened. He could feel the tension and the worry building in the air. Before too long Danny was going to fall apart. They had to get a lead soon or he was going to have more than Victor to worry about. He knew a lot about the young lawyer from researching files while trying to locate him but they hadn't really spoken that much, hadn't really gotten the chance to connect. Still he felt like he'd known Danny all his life and the idea of letting him down didn't sit well with him. The simple fact that he felt this way about the lawyer made it easier for him to understand why Martin loved him. There was something about Danny, something he couldn't quite put his finger on that made him easily likeable. Maybe it had to do with the fact that he got out of a shitty life with his humanity intact.

Elena and Vivian were waiting for them back at the office. He had the two of them sit in the office with Danny, mentioning to Vivian that she had to keep him calm, talk to him about his job or her child, anything to keep him from breaking down. Meanwhile he directed their informant, for that was what they guy had become, into one of the interrogation rooms. His main priority was to locate Martin but that didn't mean he'd lost hope that the guy would give up even more information, maybe on some cases that had run cold over the years. And if the guy decided not to roll over, as long as they found Martin he could care less.

The bartender began to give him a very descriptive rundown of the guy that had approached Rafi and Martin, even down to the tattoo on the guy's left shoulder and the nasty scar that ran over one eye. Jack made sure that he got down every last detail, not missing a thing because he knew that he couldn't afford to. Then the balding bartender surprised him uttering a name, then explaining that it was only an alias, not a real name. Jack felt like he'd finally hit the jackpot. He could run the alias through the crime database and something would surely pop-up. Normal people didn't need to come up with an alias. He told the guy to sit tight, that someone would be with him shortly to talk. Out in the office he went straight to one of the computers and typed in the name, mentioning to Elena that he wanted her to have a word with their bartender, see if he was interested in giving up any more information on other things he might have witnessed.

One glance at Danny told him that the lawyer was just barely hanging on.

Out of nowhere he found himself wondering if he had ever loved someone as much as Danny surely loved Martin. Of course he had. Sam. He'd loved her so much that he forgot about the vows he took, forgot about his wife and the family he had at home. She had taken center stage in his world and even after they split he found himself thinking of her in his downtime. But he hadn't made a move. Part of him had been hoping that she would when his wife divorced him and left. But she hadn't. Maybe it was for the best. Maybe she hadn't felt the same way he had. Sometimes it was best to leave the past in the past, where it belonged.

"Bingo," he said when a picture popped on the screen with a name. He'd finally found the man they were looking for. Now it was time to bring in the big guns, the SWAT Team and make sure that they had a sniper on board. He was not going to let this slip by him. They were going to get Martin back. And if it meant that some weasel criminal asshole had to die in order for it to happen, he didn't care. Martin was more important. There were people that needed him. Danny needed him.


	21. All Night Long

**Chapter Twenty-one: All Night Long**

The hours ticked on. The promising lead had led them somewhere else when they broke into the man's apartment to find that the place had already been ransacked. Frustrated, Jack tried to hang out to the remnants of his cool but it was slipping away. He felt like they were so close to getting Martin back, that he was just within reach. After searching frantically through the apartment Sam had called out that she found something that might prove to be important. Stuffed in the garbage bin in the bathroom with a bunch on nonsense stuff she'd found a receipt. They'd been able to locate a specific store thanks to the number printed upon the piece of white paper. In a new neighborhood almost clear cross town they began to look for buildings that match the description given to them by the lawyer. With luck it happened to be the fourth building they checked.

Walking into the place Jack was surprised that the landlord hadn't been brought up on charges of some sort because the place truly was a dump. There were leaks in the ceiling most likely caused by faulty pipes and the floor felt weak. He was worried that some of his guys in heavier gear might actually fall through. The wallpaper, where there was any, was peeling and the entire building reeked of rotting wood and moldy carpet. One of the members of the SWAT team remarked that the building was a health hazard and that by all rights no one should have to live here. That wasn't really Jack's concern but he figured it wouldn't hurt to put in a call to the proper authorities once they'd retrieved Martin. A slum-lord clearly owned the place. He just hoped that the simple fact that the place was a dump would help him in the long run. Any apartments that had been lived in but weren't currently occupied probably wouldn't have been cleaned yet; that meant a plethora of evidence could be awaiting them on one of the higher levels.

Jack pulled out his cell phone and made a quick call back to the office where he knew Danny was waiting anxiously along with others. He asked the lawyer to describe the place he'd been held once again, trying to gauge exactly what floor they were looking for. A plain clothes officer said he would have a walk around the building to see if he could spot the broken window. Jack knew that they would have to check the basement but he wanted to locate the apartment before splitting the team. He'd go to the basement while Sam headed up. While they waited for the officer to come back he thought about Martin, about how he had to be feeling. After everything that had happened he wasn't sure what this would do to his fellow agent.

The shooting had nearly killed him. He'd flat-lined once on the way to the hospital and had been close to doing it again while on the operating table. The pain sent him down the dark and dangerous road of addiction. But he fought through that, he got over the need to pop pills. That meant that he was strong, but Jack already knew that. Why else would the younger man get himself arrested so that he could look for his lover by himself and under the radar of the law? Jack had to admit that it was actually a smart move, a well executed plan. If only he had had a partner, someone inside that knew what he was doing. They could have prevented or at least stopped the attack in the alley and then Martin wouldn't be missing.

He'd learned a long time ago that life was full of could haves, would haves, and should haves; the past couldn't be changed.

The officer came back, reporting that the only broken window he could detect, that was not completely broken, was on the fourth floor. When Jack relayed his plan he let the head of the SWAT team decide how his unit was going to be split. Before they parted company Jack made sure to give Sam's hand a reassuring squeeze. How she took it he probably wouldn't ever know but he hoped that she realized he still loved her. Even after the years that had passed.

--

Up in the apartment they found food wrappers and an old television. The place smelled like piss and other unpleasant things. Two crates had been set near a table where a deck of cards still sat. Clearly someone had been in the apartment not that long ago. They weren't there now, though. The place was cleared and that made Sam's heart ache a little more as she felt the anxiety set in. Why was it that no matter how many steps forward they took they were always a step behind?

Shaking her head she walked into the only bedroom, the place that clearly had been the holding cell for Danny. Walking toward the broken window she noticed a pool of blood in the corner. Pulling a flashlight out of her pocket she crouched down to shine the light on the dark pool. It was still relatively fresh.

That meant that someone had been here not too long ago.

Someone bleeding.

She already knew that it was Martin but at least they were closing in on him and his captors.

--

Down in the dark, dank basement they found washers and dryers that looked like they had stopped working decades ago. There was something in the corner that resemble the decaying remains of a small animal; though Jack couldn't be sure since there wasn't enough of it left to make an identification. It didn't take them long to find the small store units that Danny had described. Each door was broken open, not that it was hard since none of them locked, and the small places searched. Nothing was turned up.

Jack was about to give up when he noticed something on the floor near one of the washers. With help from a flashlight he was able to make out what appeared to be fresh blood. Creeping closer to the washer he watched as a form came into view; a form that eventually revealed itself to be a pair of feet. Feeling dread in the pit of his stomach he kept going, taking his time in approaching the figure in case it wasn't Martin but some armed lunatic. He could feel one of the SWAT members behind him, comforted at having back-up. When it was evident that the person behind the washer was dead Jack had some of the guys move the ugly yellow device.

He let out a sigh of relief when he got a look at the dead man's face and it didn't belong to Martin. It belonged to the man they'd been looking for, the one that popped up in his search. The only remorse Jack had for him was the simple fact that he couldn't ask the bastard about Martin. Otherwise, he didn't care the man was dead.

--

Night had fallen a few hours ago and Danny spent most of that time pacing the office that Martin worked in. He'd never been to the FBI building before, though the place was intriguing he couldn't stop to enjoy it. All he could think about was Martin. He wanted his lover back. He didn't want to be standing in some foreign office with a person he'd only heard of Martin talk about. At that precise moment he would have given anything to be sitting on the couch in Martin's apartment watching a game or just talking in the silence. He hadn't been aware that when he fell in love with the Federal agent that he was going to fall so hard. Now…he wanted someone to pick up the pieces of his heart and put them back together. The only person that could do that was missing. He felt numb, a growing void in his chest that threatened to take away his breath and strangle him. That's why he kept pacing; to make sure that he was still alive, to reassure himself that he would be there to greet Martin when they finally brought him back.

He heard the distinct click of heels on a tiled floor and turned as Vivian came up to him. He couldn't read the expression on her face. That scared him. "What, what's wrong? Did they…"

"They've searched the building," she told him. "A body was found but it turned out to belong to one of the kidnappers, not Martin. There's blood but they're thinking, hoping that it belongs to the dead man."

"Why aren't they sure? Where's Martin?" he asked, panic creeping in.

She shrugged and offered him a sad smile. "I can't honestly tell you. Jack says it looks like he may have fought with them, tried to make a break for it."

"So he could be anywhere?"

"Trust me, Mr. Taylor, if he's free he will come here, injured or not. He knows that we're looking for him and this is the safest place for him to be. Don't worry. We're going to find him. And if I've learned anything over the last year it's that Martin is one hell of a fighter."


	22. Break My Heart Again

**Chapter Twenty-two: Break My Heart Again**

Danny stood in the doorway gazing around at the plethora of objects in the room. Some unseen barrier kept him from crossing over the threshold into the apartment beyond. He didn't have to turn on the light to know exactly where everything was; he knew the place like the back of his hand. Over the last year he had been here more than he cared to remember at that moment but the place wasn't the same now that Martin wasn't here. He couldn't hear the sound of the television as a commentator called out the score of a game or the feminine voice of a newscast. No music came from the stereo on the shelf beside the TV. He would have taken anything, even the sound of running water that said Martin was in the shower.

But all that greeted him in the darkness was the silence.

Sighing, feeling his shoulders slump, he finally found the courage to walk over the threshold. Yes, courage, that's what his problem had been. He missed Martin immensely but there was more to his apprehension than his vanished lover, and that was the sheer fear of being alone. All that time he spent in the dank, dark small space made him reluctant to be alone. As soon as he closed the door he turned on all the lights in the living room and flipped on the television, not even caring what channel it was, wanting only to have the sound. He locked the door. Unlike his lover he didn't have a gun so he slipped into the kitchen, making sure to flip on the light, grabbing a knife. Armed, he checked every nook and cranny of the apartment, closest and all.

He was the only one in the place.

And it bothered him.

This was Martin's apartment and memories of happier times were everywhere. Maybe it hadn't been such a good idea when he approached Jack, asked him if he could spend the night in Martin's apartment. He had to be near him, to be able to smell him. Collapsing on the couch he tried to relax, tried finding some peace but he felt nervous, wound-up and slightly on edge. Almost like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop, and wasn't that exactly what it was? Jack assured him that they would keep looking for Martin, that an All Points Bulletin would be sent out so the entire city would be keeping an eye out for him. Still, that didn't make it any easier for him to being sitting in his lover's apartment without the man he wanted.

He closed his eyes, listening to the voices of the actors on the television. Underneath it all he heard something else, someone out in the hallway. He tensed, the footsteps in the hallway seeming to be headed toward the door. He'd locked it. Everything would be fine. His heartbeat quickened when he heard the sound of a key in the lock. He gripped the knife tighter, the weapon concealed between his leg and the arm of the couch. At least he would have element of surprise. He found himself waiting with baited breath as the door slowly opened. Much to his surprise in walked an older man, one that he recognized immediately. He swallowed nervously, wondering what would happen now.

The older man looked at him as he closed the door. "Friend of my son?"

Danny licked his dry, cracked lips. "Yes." Hadn't he had a bad enough day, it didn't seem right that he was now going to have to deal with Martin's uptight father.

Victor Fitzgerald shook his head. "Don't be bullshiting me, young man, that insults my intelligence."

"I...don't…"

"You and my son are lovers," Victor stated so matter-of-factly. When he saw the look of shock on the younger man's face he decided to elaborate. "I know my son's business better than he does. He has always tried to hide things from me, always. When he was just a child he would seek out his mother for help, not me. I admit that maybe I wasn't the best father but I did what I could."

"That's all anyone can ask for," stated Danny, unsure of where this conversation was headed. He realized that his grip on the knife hadn't lessened in the least. "So you…how long have you known?"

"My wife and I caught you kissing."

Danny closed his eyes for a moment. Where had they…how could they possibly have messed up? "Oh…"

"What's your name?" Victor asked as he settled into the armchair.

"Danny."

"You got a last name?"

"Taylor. Danny Taylor. I'm a lawyer," he answered, knowing exactly what question the older Fitzgerald would ask next.

"So my son is dating a lawyer. Do you love him?"

For some reason Danny found that he was a little reluctant to answer that one right away. Martin had shared with him so many unpleasant things, so many bad memories and all of them put Victor Fitzgerald in a bad light. So why was he now sitting in his son's living room and talking about a relationship Martin figured he would frown upon? Maybe Martin had been wrong all along. Maybe he hadn't been able to see the good in his father. "Yes, I love him."

Victor looked at him. "Then you'll see fit to stay away from him."

"Excuse me?" Danny asked, frowning, not believing what he'd heard.

But before Victor could elaborate Danny's phone rang. He had to let go of the knife, which thankfully remained hidden from Victor's view. After checking the number on his phone he answered, his heart skipping a beat as he heard Jack's voice. They had Martin. He was at the hospital but they had him. Though he was delighted to hear that his lover had been found he couldn't help the slow cracks appearing in his heart. How could he rejoice in the knowledge of Martin being found when Victor had just told him that he had to leave the only person he loved?


	23. Scarecrow

**Chapter Twenty-three: Scarecrow**

"Danny?" Jack asked as he walked outside into the predawn hours, the sky starting to lighten near the east. "How long have you been out here?"

The young lawyer looked at him, shrugging. "Roughly since you first called."

"You can go inside, you know," Jack told him. He leaned back against the wall beside him, crossing his arms over his chest. "He asks for you every time I go in to see him."

A ghost of a smile appeared on Danny's lips. "That's…I wouldn't really expect anything less."

"So why don't you pay him a visit?" Jack asked. He looked out over the parking lot to keep from making the lawyer feel he was under scrutiny. Whatever kept him from going into the hospital wasn't really any of his business but after watching the way that Danny nearly fell apart during those hours Martin was missing; his behavior now didn't make any sense. Where had all that love gone, all that desire and hope? In its place he found fear and what looked like a good dose of anxiety.

Danny ran a trembling hand through his hair. "Victor is still in there, isn't he?"

Jack nodded, then added a verbal "Yes" for emphasis.

"That's why I won't go in."

"Because of Martin's father? You could just say that you're a concerned friend," Jack suggested. "We can lie and say that Martin met you after someone we found went to you for help. It wouldn't be that far fetched."

Danny shook his head, his eyes locked on the ground. "Pointless. He already knows, Jack. He saw us and…and now he doesn't want me anywhere near Martin. I'm not good enough for his son."

"It's not that," Jack said, trying to get over the surprise that Victor knew. But did he really expect less? When it came to Martin his father made sure that he knew everything about him. Jack wouldn't exactly be surprised to know that the older Fitzgerald already knew about Martin's little drug hiccup. "You are good enough for him, Danny. I can say that with honesty. You're perfect for him. And I can tell that you love him deeply. His father, on the other hand, is just mad that you aren't a young woman. Victor wants his son to get married and live the American dream."

"That dream is different for everyone."

"Precisely, so don't let him get you down." Jack clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Come on, you're going in to see him. I'll drag his father away to talk business, that should give you two a few minutes to get caught up."

Danny chewed his bottom lip in indecision. He really did want to see Martin. He wanted to hold him close, to kiss his lips and feel his heart beating. Finally he slowly nodded, "All right. I'll go."

He followed behind the FBI agent, his hands buried in his pockets. What would he do when he saw Martin? He didn't yet know the explanation behind them, finding him or his current condition. He figured that it was a good sign that Martin had been asking for him. That meant he was at least conscious and that had to be a good sign. As he walked down the hallways through the throng of doctors and nurses and patients he couldn't help but wonder what the future held. Should he tell Martin that his father didn't want them together? Or would it be better if he kept that little detail to himself? Maybe the older Fitzgerald was right in the long run. He wasn't good enough for Martin. Martin came from a family with money and prestige, born with a silver spoon in his mouth. And what about him? He'd been born into a family with an abusive father and had the scars to remind him. His parents died young, leaving him and his brother to fight through foster care. There was the alcohol that took up so many years of his life, the fact that his brother was a convict.

They came from different sides of the tracks. They couldn't make this work. Victor was right. He just wasn't good enough for Martin. But he loved, oh how he loved him. He wanted to hold him close, to feel skin on skin. At the moment he would settle for hearing his voice.

When they reached a certain point Jack told him to wait. Danny could see the waiting area outside one of the rooms. Everyone was there; Sam, Vivian and Elena. And of course, Victor. Why had he bothered to tell the older Fitzgerald that his son had been found, that he was in the hospital? Perhaps it had been an attempt to show that he was an upstanding guy. As he stood there he watched Jack approach the FBI director and draw him away down a hallway. They were now out of view of Martin's room. Without saying anything to the girls he headed for the door, bracing himself before he pushed it open.

"Danny."

All his worries and doubts washed away the minute he heard Martin speak his name. "Fitz. Boy am I glad to see you."

"Likewise," Martin said, a smile gracing his features.

Danny took in the minor cuts and bruises, the sling on one arm. "How are you doing?" he asked, settling on the edge of the bed. He took hold of Martin's good hand. How could he have sat outside for so long?

"Fine," remarked Martin, squeezing his hand. "I had a separated shoulder and have a few bumps and bruises but I'm otherwise okay."

Danny felt the smile tugging at the corners of his lips, rubbing circles with his thumb into the back of Martin's hand. "I'm sorry, Martin." He locked eyes with the man he loved. "I'm so sorry that I didn't come in here earlier to see you. I just…"

"Hard to deal with?"

That seemed like a convincing enough lie so Danny went with it. "Can you forgive me?"

Martin slipped his hand free of Danny's grasp and placed it softly on Danny's cheek, smiling. "I don't think I could ever be mad at you. I love you, Danny."

It seemed like the right moment so Danny leaned over, placing his lips on Martin's. A shockwave of sensations ran through his body as they kissed. Martin's lips parted slightly allowing Danny's tongue access to his mouth. He loved the taste of Martin. As the kiss deepened they both felt like the only two people in the world, lovers trapped in a sensational liplock. When they broke apart, lips swollen, cheeks flushed, neither one of them said anything. That was the beauty of their love; they didn't have to speak of their feelings to know how much they loved one another.

The sound of someone knocking on the doorframe made the two of them jump. Sam smiled apologetically when they turned to look at her. "Sorry, but Danny you need to leave. He…it would just be better."

"No," Martin said, grabbing hold of Danny's hand. "I want you to stay."

"I'm sorry. Fitz but I can't. I'll explain everything when you get out, I promise." As a way to seal his promise he kissed Martin again, this kiss shorter but no less meaningful. And then he was out the door, making his way down the hall before Victor realized that he'd even been there.


	24. Bad for Good

**Chapter Twenty-four: Bad for Good**

It took him all night to straighten out the mess that had claimed hold of his office. At least someone had taken the time to lock the door while he was gone. He figured that he had Jack or one of the other agents to thank for it. What would one of his clients had then seen his small office in such disarray? He always told himself that a neat and orderly office proved that he was good at his job. Though sometimes he would leave a small bit of clutter here and there to give the impression that he was working on something important. After being in the FBI building he felt a tad envious. His dwellings were nothing like theirs. They had some of the greatest resources to help people and everything they needed was right there are their fingerprints. They didn't have to dig so hard to learn what they needed about someone. Sometimes he would have trouble finding dirt on specific people which would result in a few days of leg work, asking questions that most people did their best to avoid answering. What he wouldn't give to be able to have every little thing he needed when he needed it.

But he wasn't Martin or an agent for the Federal Government.

Up until now it never really bothered him that the man he loved worked for such a place. Now he'd seen their resources, the amount of work they managed to get done in such a short amount of time. Of course, their work was way more important than his. While he spent his days trying to collect child support and settling divorces they spent their time trying to track down missing people before lives were lost. They were making a difference in the world…

He sighed, setting the stack of files on his desk, sinking into the chair. For the longest time he wanted to be a lawyer, to help the people who couldn't afford to pay the bills of high priced lawyers. He wanted to help the little man, people like himself. And that's exactly what he'd been doing with his life. Then he met Martin and finally got a taste of what it was like to be happy. He still enjoyed his job. Maybe he always would. But he couldn't help wondering if maybe he needed change.

And the change he was thinking of would be a dramatic one.

Someone knocked on the closed office door, drawing him from the depths of his thoughts. He didn't have a chance to put the files away before the door swung open. He tried to brace himself for whichever client had come to see, tried to slip into that professional mode that he had perfected over the years. But it was all for nothing because when the door open he watched as Martin slipped inside, closing it behind him. His arm was still in a sling, his bad shoulder getting a rest after the trauma.

"Martin," he said in surprise, unable to hide the emotions that were coursing through him.

The younger Fitzgerald settled into one of the other chairs, wincing in pain only once and it happened so quickly that Danny nearly missed it. "Where have you been?"

"What do you mean?" he asked, licking his suddenly dried lips. What he wouldn't give to have something cool and refreshing to drink at that exact moment. Something to wet his whistle, give him a moment longer to think and clear his head. "I've been hear cleaning up the mess that was left."

"Why didn't you visit me in the hospital but that one time?"

So the conversation he'd been kind of dreading was going to happen here and now. "I…couldn't."

"Why?" Martin pressed, a bit of his father's tenacity slipping out.

Danny got up and walked around his desk, settling into the chair beside Martin. This close he could smell the aftershave that his lover used, the laundry soap on his clothing. It brought back memories of them in happier times, memories of them touching and kissing, rolling around between the sheets. It made his heart ache in a way he never though t it would. "Martin…I…"

"Do you have problems with hospitals? I know that a lot of people are uncomfortable and that's understandable…"

"No," Danny said to cut him off. "I'm not bothered by hospitals, Martin. I actually wish that I was because than this would be an easier conversation to have and I wouldn't have to sit here trying to figure out what to say that won't upset you."

Martin frowned; worry clouding his beautiful blue eyes. "What's going on?"

Swallowing nervously Danny looked down at his hands, not a Martin. How could he do this after everything that had happened? Would Martin think that he was blaming him for the kidnapping and the memories that would haunt him in his sleep? If he ever managed to fall asleep again. "I…" he sighed, knowing that eventually the truth would have to come out. "I'm not allowed to see you anymore."

Saying the words, actually getting them out, hurt him more than he realized they would. It was like having someone tear out his heart and soul. He really did love Martin and wanted to stay with him forever. Before the events leading up to this moment he'd been thinking about broaching the subject of living together, of actually taking the next step in their relationship. Now he found himself with a slowly breaking heart and a head full of jumbled thoughts. Though he didn't want to he looked up, gazing at Martin. The agent was staring at him with those blue eyes that he loved getting lost within; only this time they sparkled with what looked like unshed tears. How could he be doing this? At that moment he wanted to take back all the unkind words, take them back and erase this moment forever. But it was too late…

"You can't…" Martin couldn't even get the rest of the words out.

Danny knew that he was going to have to explain before things got out of hand. Finding some inner strength he didn't realize he had he began to tell Martin everything. The way that his father had come to visit that night, what he'd said about their relationship. Even the way that he denied them, telling Danny to get lost if he really loved his son. Then he went on to express his own feelings about the issue, about their relationship. Despite the fact that he loved Martin with every fiber of his being he felt that they had no feature together, that their differences would eventually tear them apart in the long run. He came from a family with addictions and records while Martin had money and privilege. He tried to point out that their lives weren't part of some LifeTime movie, that this was the real world and it wouldn't work. They wouldn't work.

So it had to end.

As he spoke he looked at everything in the small office but the man he loved, the man whose heart he was breaking. When all was finally said and done he glimpsed at his lover. Martin's beautiful blue eyes looked back at him, a slight twinkle to them.

"Gee, don't look so happy that I'm pouring out my heart and-"

"Shut up," Martin said his voice firm. "I don't want to hear another word about how you aren't good for me, Danny. I never gave a flying fuck what my father thought of my life. If he can't handle the fact that I love you and only you, then that's his problem. From the very first day that we met I knew something special would happen between us." Martin climbed out of the chair, falling to his knees in front of Danny, reaching out and placing his good hand on Danny's cheek. "I have never felt for anyone the way that I feel for you. And I can't just stop these…emotions coursing through my body because one person thinks that what we have is wrong. My father can express his displeasure for our relationship all he wants, that doesn't mean that I feel the way he does. I will never stop loving you, Danny."

"You have to see the differences, Martin. I mean…look at my brother…"

Martin smiled. "He helped a complete stranger, a Federal agent, break the law so that he could get you back."

"But…my problems…my past…" Danny knew that he was fishing, that he was running out of valid reasons for the two of them to split.

"Your past is what made you the man you are today, the man that I love so dearly. And that little slip up with the alcohol? Have you already forgotten my addiction to painkillers? Just because I come from money doesn't mean I can't be just as damaged as the next guy," Martin pointed out. "We all have weaknesses. And right now mine is you."

Danny moved the chair back, falling to the carpet on his knees, putting him eye level with the man he loved. He placed a hand on each side of Martin's face, leaning in for a kiss, pressing their lips together. It may not have been some award winning movie kiss but it was all that Danny needed because it reminded him how much he loved Martin, how complete the other man made him feel. As they slowly broke apart he began to think that they just might be able to make it, that they would be okay in the end.


	25. Speed

**Chapter Twenty-five: Speed**

Impatience swept over and through him while he waited for the light to turn green so that he could continue his journey. The day had been remotely normal, locked away in the office because his injury wouldn't let him work the field, or so Jack told him. He figured that it was an order straight down from his father. Technically he shouldn't be driving since he only had the one good arm but that's exactly what he was doing, though it wasn't really all that easy. He was kind of in a rush but he drove carefully because the vehicle belonged to the government and he didn't want to have to explain to anyone how it got scratched or dented. Tapping a nervous thumb on the steering wheel he kept replaying everything that happened.

He got to work that morning and was promptly put on desk duty, working with computers. Apparently someone thought typing with one hand was an easy thing to do. Somehow he managed to make do and eventually he found a rhythm that worked for him. He helped Vivian locate some files on an ex-con that had gone missing and read them to her over the phone. He felt that the case was a lost cause, that one of the guy's former cellmates had something to do with his demise. According to records the ex-con hadn't been the nicest guy even while behind bars.

When lunch rolled around he'd been planning on going out with Sam to a diner they used to visit when they were dating. She said something about wanting to catch up with him and hearing the full story about how he and Danny met. Getting out of the office for a while appealed to him. The last thing he wanted to get was cabin fever. But the lunch had been canceled when she got a call from Jack about the case and he got a call from Danny. They quickly decided to make other arrangements, like having her over for dinner some night with Danny, too. Since the kidnapping, which he really didn't care to think about, he found himself finally feeling like normal. That was until he answered the phone.

Even now, as the light finally turned green, he could hear the urgency in Danny's voice.

"_Martin, you need to get over here right now. Something's come up and…just get here. Please?"_

What could possibly have come up that made his lover so worried? It couldn't possibly have anything to do with the kidnappers. The idiots had gotten into an argument and subsequently killed each other over what they should do with him; hold him for ransom or kill him to make a statement. In the end they got neither. Jack told him that he stayed up late researching the two guys to see if there was a third party or if they worked alone. Thankfully it was the latter. So what had upset Danny to the point he called Martin at work? A few months back a mutual agreement was made that Danny would never call him at work. 'Course, now with the cat out of the bag, so to speak, it didn't matter if anyone caught him talking to Danny.

It was a full twenty minutes after the call that he arrived outside the building that housed Danny's small law office. He'd been by here just yesterday to talk with his lover and had nearly lost him. As he made his way up the stairs he recalled the kiss they shared, the simple memory was enough to make him feel flush. For once in his life he knew what it meant to feel loved. His parents tried their best but his father was almost always away at work and his mother had so many social functions she chose to attend. For the first time in his life he understood what it meant to be the center of someone's world. And he liked it. He liked knowing that someone cared as much for him as he did for them. After all these years he could finally say that falling in love was the greatest feeling in the world and one he never wanted to lose.

He knocked on the door, so as not to scare anyone, before entering the small office. Danny was sitting behind his desk, tapping the butt of a pen off the wood and staring out the window at the city below. "Danny?"

"He came by here, Martin."

"Who did?" he asked, closing the door. Martin had a good feeling that he already knew the answer to the question.

Danny turned to look at him. "You're father came by. He wanted to speak to me again about my relationship with you. I kind of figured that he would learn I visited you at the hospital but how did he know that you were here yesterday?"

"He's got to have someone watching me. That's all I can think of because I sure as hell haven't spoken to him since leaving the hospital." He walked across the office and stopped in front of Danny who remained seated. "Eventually he will get the idea that I'm not interested in breaking things off with you and he'll leave us alone."

Before Martin even finished talking Danny was shaking his head. "I find that highly unlikely."

"Why?"

"He…offered me money to walk out of your life," Danny said quietly.

Martin felt like someone had sucker punched him. His father was trying to buy off his lover now? Just how low would Victor go to ruin their relationship, to ruin his happiness? "How…how much?" For some reason he found that he could no longer look at Danny. The air simmered with tension.

"A quarter of a million…"

"That's a lot of money."

"More than I'll probably ever see in my lifetime," remarked Danny.

Martin swallowed nervously. "Are…I mean, I'd understand. You could help get your brother out of that apartment and think of what you could for your clients."

Danny stood. "Martin look at me." He did. "I'm not going to take your father's money. It may be a lot and maybe some people can be bought like that, but I'm not them." Danny reached out, drawing Martin into an embrace. "Your love is priceless and the only thing that matters to me."

He could feel the tears welling in his eyes as he rested his head on Danny's shoulder. Never in his life did he expect to find someone that loved him as wholly as Danny did. It filled him with emotions that he couldn't find words to describe. And though he should have been happy at that moment, held by someone who had just declared their love to him, he felt like the world was falling apart around him. His father wasn't going to stop trying to break them up; Victor never backed down. Martin feared what his father was going to do next. He worried that whatever it was he wouldn't be able to mend the broken fences between him and Danny. And if that happened…He hugged Danny tighter, not wanting to think about what it would be like without the only person he'd ever truly loved.


	26. Hell Yeah

**Chapter Twenty-six: Hell Yeah**

He rubbed a hand over his mouth. By now someone up at the house must have noticed him but with his cell phone turned off, he wouldn't know. He'd been sitting in his car out front the home he had grown up in for at least an hour. It was his day off and he wanted to spend it with Danny but before he could even think of that he had to have a word with his father. He looked at the clock on the dashboard. Danny would be arriving at his apartment within the next few minutes, only to find a note stuck to the door. It explained that he would be late, that he should let himself in and get comfortable. Nervously he ran a hand through his hair, putting the car into gear and pulling into the driveway. A minute later he was standing outside the front door wondering if maybe he should knock or just walk in. A maid saved him the trouble, bumping into him on her way out for the day.

He slipped into the home full of memories, not many of them that good.

"Mom?" he called out, knowing that she would be home. It was too early in the day for her to be out with her friends or some social event. That meant that she was either in the sunroom or poking around the bedroom getting ready to go out. Hopefully she was in the former because trying to talk with her while she was getting ready to go out was not always the best time; she half listened. What he wanted to talk about was important.

Stopping by the bottom of the stairs he called out again, "Mom?"

"Marty? Is that my favorite son I hear calling to me?" his mother replied coming from the direction of the kitchen. She was wearing a pair of sandals, off-white slacks, and a peach silk blouse. For once the amount of jewelry and make-up she had on was small. But Martin knew that before long she'd be all made up and on her way out the door. That's how things had been since he was very young.

"I'm your only son," he said as he hugged her.

She kissed him on the cheek. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?" She took him by the hand, leading him through the kitchen and into the sunroom where a pitcher of lemonade was waiting, accompanied by small sandwiches he figured were cucumber. His mother, always the traditionalist. "It's your father, isn't it?"

He sat but only after his mother did. "Isn't it always?"

"Well let's put that off, shall we? Just for a little while?" she suggested. "I rarely get to see you. Word on the grapevine is that you've been dating someone pretty seriously for a while now. So tell me, what's he like?"

Martin did little to hide his surprise. His mother knew that he was dating a guy. "How…"

"A mother knows, Marty. I've always known." She sipped her lemonade. "Now tell me, does he make happy? What's his name and what does he do for a living? We should have him over for dinner some night. I sure would like to meet the man that my son is so smitten with."

Dinner with his parents? Inviting Danny to this house, this huge mansion? Danny knew that he came from money but to actually see the wealth first hand; he wasn't entirely sure that Danny would be able to deal with it. "I'll run it by him, mom. He's actually the reason I'm here. Seems dad offered him a lot of money to leave me."

His mother's eyes got wide with surprise. "Are you serious?"

He nodded.

"Why I…" Unexpectedly she stood, going back through the kitchen. He heard her yelling his father's name from the base of the stairs. So his father was home. Things were on the verge of becoming interesting. While he waited he poured himself a glass of lemonade, sipping at it nervously. About two minutes later he heard his mother talking to his father as they walked back toward the sunroom. "My son has just been kind enough to inform me that you offered his boyfriend money if he broke apart their relationship. Is that true?"

Martin looked at his father for a fleeting moment before looking elsewhere. He'd been hoping his father wouldn't be home because he really didn't want to be present for this conversation. "I'm looking out for the boy's best interest."

"My best interest?" Martin remarked. "By breaking up my relationship?"

"Martin-"

"Honey," his mother interrupted, "you have to accept the fact that your son is in love with a man. And I will not allow you to make my son unhappy. As long as this man treats him right and makes him happy…." At that point she turned to look at him. "Does he?"

He couldn't keep from smiling. "Yes, mom, he does make me happy. And he treats me well. I love him."

--

He got back later than expected, the afternoon traffic holding him up. When he'd left the house his parents hadn't even really noticed him slipping out. His mother was trying to make his father understand. The note was no longer on the door and when he tried the knob it turned freely; which told him that Danny was waiting for him. A smile formed on his lips as he thought about his lover. He liked the idea of having someone waiting for him when he came home. Pushing the door open he tried to put the visit home behind him. Danny was sitting on the couch, his feet up on the coffee table and a book occupying his attention.

"Reading something wonderful?"

At the sound of his voice Danny jumped, closing the book and putting it beside him on the couch. "Are you always so sneaky?"

Martin cocked an eyebrow. "What are you reading?"

"Nothing," Danny said, standing. "Just forget about it. Tell me where you were. Today was supposed to be our day." He wrapped his arms around Martin's waist, lightly kissing him on the lips.

Martin took the opportunity to slip around him and reach for the book. He read the title, then looked at his lover. "You're reading this?" he held up the book. "I read this one. Does this mean…?"

"At the moment it doesn't really mean anything," shrugged Danny. "Just reading material."

"This is never just reading material."

Danny was quiet for a moment. "Do you think that I have a shot?"

He placed the book on the table and drew Danny close. "You already have a working knowledge of law. I think you should go for it. I'll help you as best I can. And I know just which unit of the FBI you should work for…"


	27. Lonesome

**Chapter Twenty-seven: Lonesome**

The numbers of the clock on the corner of his computer monitor rolled over to noon. And he was still sitting in the office tapping a pen absentmindedly on top of his desk. The place was surprisingly quiet given the hour and the fact that they had a current, active case. Maybe it was the simple fact that everybody was out of the office but him. Again. He exhaled somewhat loudly to break the silence closing in around him. He hated times like these, when there was no around but him. What he wouldn't give to be out in the field but Jack had asked for him to remain in the office. Though he wasn't exactly sure why and when he asked Jack wouldn't tell him. In fact, it was almost like he ignored the question.

Looking for something to keep himself busy he started straightening the things on his desk. He made sure not to miss a detail; straightening paperwork, making sure that all the pens and pencils were pointing down so he wouldn't stab himself accidentally, dusted his monitor, and even went through the dangerous task of organizing the drawers of his desk. All the while he kept praying for his cell phone to ring, thinking how nice it would be for one of the other members to call him and give him some research to do. He would have taken just about anything at that point. When he hazarded a look at the clock on his computer he was disappointed to see that only an hour had passed.

How was he supposed to make it to the end of shift when time passed so slowly with nothing to keep him busy?

He put his cell phone on the desk and glared at it, willing it to ring. But it defied him, ignored him. Hell, he was getting to the point where he would have loved a call from his mother just to listen to her chatter about what socialite thing she'd been doing. Not that he really cared about any of that stuff. At least it would have given him something to do or made time pass faster.

Bored, he pushed his chair back from his desk, wheeling across the floor. Then he did a little spin. For the next hour he wheeled back and forth, adding the occasional spin here and there. Finally his cell phone rang. He plucked the little device from atop his desk and answered it. Sam was on the other end; she wanted to know if maybe he would ask Danny a question for her, something legal. No matter how much he played he wasn't able to get her to tell him exactly what it was she sought advice for. He promised to ask Danny if he would mind helping. And the call ended. Not even five minutes worth of his time.

He rolled his eyes, slumping forward, hitting his forehead on his desk.

It was going to be a long end of the day.

--

When end of shift rolled around he left the office without looking back. The others were still out doing their job, none of them having called him. That's why he figured it wouldn't be such a big deal if he decided to leave. They obviously didn't need him. The ride home was quiet, alone with his thoughts. After spending a day alone with his thoughts he realized there were a lot of strange things that would pop into his head. Probably because he would notice stupid, small things that weren't relevant; things he normally didn't have time to notice.

More silence awaited him back at his apartment, the lights off so the dark was all that welcomed him. He sighed again. There had been some slight hope that Danny would be waiting for him when he got home. They had barely seen each other over the last week, ever since Danny picked up a case for someone working in the same building as him. And when he wasn't working the case he was trying to find new lawyers for all of his clients, lawyers that were much like him or willing to work with the people Danny often had stumbling through his door. When all that work related stuff was out of the way he was pouring over studying books learning everything he could about being part of the FBI.

That meant that Martin had been spending a lot of time by himself.

And it was starting to get a little old.

He spent the night flipping aimlessly through the channels, finding nothing that held his interest for more than maybe a minute or so. For dinner he had microwave macaroni. When he finally couldn't stand the dreary day he shut off the television and headed for his bedroom. As he fell into bed he became aware of the feelings that were quickly settling over him. They were so similar to the ones he experienced before meeting Danny.

He hated to feel alone.

--

"Martin?"

He slowly opened his eyes, pulling out of his sleepy fog. Danny smiled down at him. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, his right arm holding him up as he gazed down at Martin. "Danny…what time is it?"

"Sometime after midnight."

"Are you just getting in?" He rubbed at his eyes.

Danny bent down and kissed him lightly on the lips. "Sorry I was out so late. But that case I was dealing with is now out of my hands; which means I'll have more time to spend with my favorite person."

Martin smiled lightly. "Sounds good."

Danny kissed him again. "Why don't I get out of these clothes then come back and snuggle with you?"

"That sounds even better." He felt the bed move again, this time as Danny got up. Sleep tugged at him, forcing him to close his eyes, but he lingered on the edge of consciousness, aware of the things going on around him. He listened while Danny got undressed, tossing his clothes into the hamper. They had become so comfortable with each other that things were starting to get left here and there between their two apartments. A few minutes later he felt the bed dip again, Danny wriggling under the covers. Then he felt Danny's strong arms wrapped around his waist, words of love murmured in his ear, a gentle kiss on the back of his neck. This time when he drifted off to sleep there was a small smile on his lips.


	28. Why Do I Feel Like Running?

**Chapter Twenty-eight: Why Do I feel Like Running?**

"I don't think this is such a good idea," Martin mused aloud. "I mean…can't we rethink this? We could go see a movie or…just hang out at home."

Danny entwined his fingers with Martin's, giving them a gentle squeeze. "It won't be so bad. Come on, we can do this, Fitzy."

Martin looked at the impressive mansion looming before him. All throughout his childhood this place had been a fortress, a place to go when school was out and they weren't on vacation in some faraway place. Very rarely did he look upon the house as a place of safety, having never really found any reassurance inside. His mother was always busy with her parties and charities and his father…well, he tried not to dwell on the way his father had been growing up. He was still trying to do something that would please the old man and with every passing day it seemed that he failed a little more, fell a few inches further in his father's eyes. Now the question was whether or not he really cared.

When Danny found out about the invitation for dinner from Mrs. Fitzgerald he jumped on the chance. Something about making a good impression to help things along. And since it seemed that Martin's mother was okay with the relationship, what would it hurt to actually get to know her? Maybe she would realize what an upstanding young man Danny was and help them convince Victor that this relationship was truly right. Martin told Danny he was dreaming of the impossible.

They started toward the front door and his stomach did flip-flops. He didn't want to be here, not with Danny. All he could think about was how his lover would react to the wealth of the place and then of course he had to worry about Victor. He wanted to hightail it out of there.

"I can't do this," he said, planting his feet firmly. "I can't willingly lead you into the lion's den. I love you too much to ever do that."

Danny chuckled. "Martin, I'm a grown man. I think I can handle your parents."

"Keep dreaming…"

He leaned over, brushing his lips against Martin's cheek. "If you do this for me I'll do something extra special for you," he whispered into Martin's ear. "Anything your little heart desires."

"Anything?"

"Anything," confirmed Danny.

Martin looked at the house again, trying to swallow down the growing trepidation that threatened to take hold of him and send him running for the hills. Why did Danny have to be so on board with having dinner with his parents? "Fine. But you can bet your ass I'm going to make that promise worth it."

Danny just chuckled again, leading him toward the door with another reassuring squeeze of his hand. As they made their way up the walk he tried to think of pleasant things, things that made him happy. Like Danny. Or being at work with Sam and Jack and Vivian. Having his teeth pulled probably would have been more appealing at that moment. When they stopped before the door Danny kissed him once again on the cheek and whispered an "I love you" before he knocked. Martin could already feel the knots in his stomach tightening; sweat gearing up to start popping out on his forehead and his palms. He tried to swallow and found it a little hard. Inside his chest his heart felt like a rapid hummingbird hyped up on ecstasy or some other drug. Maybe he'd have a heart attack and that would be the end to the night. As he heard the distinct sound of heels on tiled floor beyond the door he actually began to hope that his heart would give out on him. Anything to get him out of this treacherous night.

Mrs. Fitzgerald opened the door. The outfit she wore that evening was beyond stunning, the deep midnight blue of her dress complementing the color of her eyes. The string of pearls around her neck glittered much the way the rest of her jewelry did. She looked like she was going to one of her balls or something. Martin resisted the urge to glance at Danny to gauge his reaction.

"Martin," she exclaimed, hugging him and kissing his cheek. "Always a pleasure dear, and why do you insist on knocking? This is your home too." Before he could offer an answer she turned her attention to Danny. Martin had to admit that his lover looked stunning in the suit he'd chosen to wear. "Why you must be the man that has my little boy all in a tizzy."

Martin could feel the heat of a blush creeping across his cheeks.

"Mrs. Fitzgerald, I must say, you look quite exquisite," Danny said, laying on the charm. "And you raised a wonderful son."

"Come, come," she said, taking Martin by the hand and then Danny. She walked them into the house, leaving the maid to close the front door. Martin hazarded a glance at Danny over his mother's head to find an amused sparkle in his lover's eye. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

In the dining room they found cold refreshments already waiting for them. Martin was happy to note that it was champagne because he wanted a drink more than anything. Then he remembered that Danny was strict about not touching alcohol. It wouldn't be fair to have a glass while his lover had to deal with the eventual Spanish Inquisition sober. He picked up a glass of water instead and handed a second glass to Danny. He caught the look on his mother's face and figured he should explain.

But without telling the whole truth. "Danny doesn't like to drink…"

His mom didn't miss a beat. "Oh, you're a lawyer. I bet you see some bad things brought on by the likes of alcohol. I'll have the maid bring in some juice or soda. Whatever you would like."

Things seemed to be going amazingly smooth. As they stood around in the dining room waiting for dinner to finish or his father- he wasn't sure which- they made idle chitchat. He had to give Danny credit. And his mother too. The both of them were handling the situation a whole hell of a lot better than he was. The conversation they carried on it was like they had known each other for years instead of only a matter of minutes. She learned just about everything there was to learn about Danny, including the fact that his brother was troubled but trying to go straight. Martin expected something like that to upset his mother, to make her see where his father was coming from but it didn't. She expressed her apologies and sympathies like any normal person would have. The conversation quickly changed from topics of get-to-know-me to things that were happening in the world. The more the two of them talked the more Martin found himself relaxing. Maybe this wouldn't be that bad.

Then his father walked into the room. He could tell that Danny noticed him by the sudden change of tone in his voice and the slight hiccup in the conversation.

Mrs. Fitzgerald walked across the room and took her husband's hand. "Come meet Danny Taylor, dear. He's a lawyer and the most fascinating young man."

Martin swallowed nervously, gripping the glass in his hand tighter.

What would his father say? What would he do?

But it wasn't his father that spoke next. It was his mom. "And I think he's perfect for Martin."


	29. Free Fall

**Note**: Thanks for all the reviews.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-nine: Free Fall**

He tried to suppress a yawn but failed in his attempt. It had been another one of those long days at the office. All he wanted to do was get home to see Danny. For once in his life he actually found a reason to leave his work behind. There was something more promising waiting for him back at his apartment. Actually, it was more like _their_ apartment since Danny spent nearly every minute there now. Perhaps tonight he would ask the question neither one of them felt needed asking; if Danny would move in with him. They already spent so much time together that it wouldn't alter their lives in anyway. Well, it would allow his lover a little extra money ever month because he wouldn't be spending it on an apartment he never stayed in. And Martin knew exactly what Danny would do that newfound money. He would give it to his brother to help him start that autobody shop he dreamed of owning.

As he headed up the stairs to their apartment- he liked thinking of it that way- his mind traveled back to the dinner from two nights ago. His mother was making it a habit to call him every morning on his commute to work. He knew that she was just trying to make an effort at taking interest in his life but why did she have to wait so long? Where was this interest when he'd been growing up? At least his mother loved Danny and approved of their relationship. And she managed to get his father to back off for the most part. He knew that Victor was still unhappy with the idea of his son dating a guy but at least he wasn't offering Danny money anymore. That was a step in the right direction.

He stopped at the door, the thrum of music flowing from inside the apartment. When he nudged the door open he could hear Danny singing right along with the song on the radio and it made him smile. There was something nice about knowing the apartment wouldn't be empty when he got off at night. He liked knowing that someone would be waiting for him. He eased the door closed, settled his stuff on the floor, and headed for the kitchen where he could hear Danny messing around with dishes. He breezed into the small room, right up behind Danny, and placed his hands on his lover's hips, pulling him back.

Danny looked back over his shoulder, smiling. "Hey, you're home." He turned to face Martin, kissing him. "I was just trying to find something that looked interesting for dinner."

"Let's go out," Martin suggested, rubbing his hands up and down Danny's back. "I feel the need to celebrate."

"What for?" Danny asked.

"Oh, nothing real important," he drawled, trying to play coy. "Just got some news in the office today. From Jack. Through the grapevine…"

"Come on, Fitzy, out with it."

"Well...I want to ask you something first."

Danny held him tighter, pulling him closer. "And what would that be?"

He inhaled the smell of Danny's aftershave, the laundry detergent he used, and the slightest hint of something else, something he couldn't make out. He enjoyed the warmth, the fire burning his skin where Danny touched him. "Do you want to move in?"

"With you, here?" Danny asked. He smiled. "I was wondering how long you were going to wait before you got around to popping that question."

Martin smiled. "Yeah, well you can pop the next one, then."

"All right, tell me why you're so happy and what we need to celebrate? Other than the fact that we'll be living together."

Martin reached into the inner pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out an envelope. It was still sealed. "I already know what is says but figured you would want to read it for yourself…"

Reluctantly Danny let him go to tear open the envelope that would tell him where exactly his future was headed. He unfolded the piece of paper and read the black type, the words not sinking in until he read it a second time and then a third. "I can't…this…"

"What am I going to do without you while you're away in Quantico getting your training?" Martin mused.

Danny looked at him. "I can't believe I got in."

"I can," Martin smiled, kissing him. "They'd be foolish to pass on you."

"Looks like I'll be getting a new job."

"And Jack has already put in a request to have you work with him. He says that he saw a lot potential in you," Martin told him. "He thinks you have what it takes to be on our team. Of course, my father will have to pull some strings-" Danny flashed him a worried look- "but I'm sure my mom can persuade him. So what do you say, shall we go out and celebrate?"

"I don't know, I do still owe you a promise," Danny smiled somewhat mischievously.

Martin took his hand. "Oh, I haven't forgotten about that. I plan to cash it in after dinner…"

**FIN**


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